I'm Not Myself
by AJ10
Summary: Rogue's having an identity crisis, she's just not herself. Will Gambit be able to help?
1. Missing

Disclaimer: Everything and everyone is Marvel's, I'm just a huge nerd with _way_ too much time on my hands, actually I don't have any time, there are so many other things I should be doing right now. 

This is mostly a Rogue story, although everyone else will pop up from time to time and Gambit will be introduced. So Read, Review, Flame if you want to, and have a lovely day. :)

  
_I'm Not Myself, You See_

_"Who are You?" the Caterpillar said. "I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, sir," said Alice, "because I'm not myself, you see." -Lewis Carroll, "Alice in Wonderland"_

The temperature had fallen about ten degrees in the past half hour and the gray clouds were developing a deep blue tint that signaled rain ahead. It would be a good idea to start walking back home, as it would take at least another half hour to walk back the way she came. She should, but she didn't quite feel like it yet. With her ever present long-sleeves, coat and gloves the temperature didn't bother her. In fact, Marie was unbelievably relieved when autumn decided to make itself know. Summer was incredibly hot when you wore gloves all the time. This time of year was perfect. A nice stroll to the Salem Center when it was cold, but no snow to trudge through. 

  
When she thought of snow, unconsciously, she started fidgeting with the dogtags that hung around her neck and then grabbed her fingers when she realized what she was doing. Rogue let out a mildly self-disgusted sigh and shoved her hands in her coat pocket. Logan had been gone for... well, a long time, she had lost track of how long and she was not about to go out of her way to figure out the math. She wasn't supposed to still be thinking about him all the time, but she still wore his dumb dogtags and every third sentence reminded her of him. Everyone at the school thought she had a crush on him, even Bobby. As for herself, she really didn't know what she felt anymore and moreover, anything she did feel was moot anyway, given her powers. 

  
And that was a thought that depressed her considerably. Another self-disgusted sigh, she was supposed to be over that, too; the constant fears about being alone. Alone wasn't so bad, after a while. She even managed to be alone in a school full of people, who were always talking to her. Managed to be alone when she was out with Bobby, which frankly wasn't all that often anyway. In a strange way she felt better when she was literally all by herself, which was why she was currently walking the considerable distance from Xavier's school to the nearby town of Salem Center for no other reason than to just stroll down main street and look in shop windows. But Rogue wasn't really thinking of all those things. She just thought she had a free day and needed a walk. So walk she did and had just reached the outskirts of town when she failed to notice a flicker out of the corner of her eye.

_Somewhere North..._

Logan looked up from a microfishe reader and vaguely wondered if his healing factor could keep up with the eye damage being inflicted by this infernal machine. _Why hadn't the library put all this stuff on computer by now?_ When he left to try to find out about his past, he never thought it would involve this much paperwork. He almost laughed when he considered what most people would think of him in a library. _I shoulda stayed in Westchester. That Chuck seemed the type who would love to do research._ The man called Wolverine would have liked nothing better than to just bash someone's head in and make them talk. The problem with that was, you needed to find the right head to bash to get any useful information. 

  
The abandoned military complex that Xavier had found, was just that... abandoned. There were buildings, some shelves, but absolutely nothing else. _Well, What did you expect? That the nerfarious powers-that-be would leave behind all their incriminating records for anyone to find strolling into their old buildings?_ _That would have been nice. _Wolverine thought to himself. Then he wouldn't currently be stuck in a library in Ottawa going blind looking through government records and parliament minutes. He was running on his original theory that the "project" he was involved in was at least marginally related to the government. The military complex on government owned land attested to that. And if there were government officials involved, hopefully, they stayed true to their bureaucratic roots and kept records and moved them to another site when they left the complex. After all, even Hitler was anal about keeping records. Of course, he was also anal about destroying them towards the end of the war. 

  
The only problem was where to find those records. Hence, the paper chase. What non-descript department seemed to have too big a budget for its official purpose. Which well-paid bureaucrat never seemed to attend committee meetings? Personally, Logan was hoping to find a suspicious person. That meant a head to bash and things would go a lot faster. So far he had found an agricultural minister who was never in Parliament meetings. Further investigation revealed he was in Florida a lot. Something the voters might be interested in, but not him. 

  
There was something called "weapons research" in Department H, that could have been promising. After all, what would the department of mutant affairs need with a weapons research program? Unfortunately, all of the scientists and bureaucrats attached it to it were constantly appearing at various committees, and sub-committees and turning in lengthy reports, on...weapons research. The research seemed to consist of defenses against Magneto and people similar, super-powered and ill-tempered. Copies of these reports were dutifully turned in, in compliance with the Canadian version of the freedom of information act. None of this seemed particularly incriminating. Maybe, he was just no good at paperwork, he thought disgustedly. Logan stood up and turned off the microfishe reader with more force than necessary. Reading time was done for the day. He was going to stalk about the city for a while and hope to run into a mugger or two. He felt like hitting something. 

Unfortunately, muggers, like information, turned out to be scarce that night. Logan had to settle for kicking a few mailboxes. _I really hate the city_, he thought to himself while returning to his motel room._ I really hate motels_. He'd rather be camping, but downtown Ottawa had few good camp sites. Before even reaching his room, his sensitive hearing picked up a truly horrible beeping sound. Once inside, he located the communicator that Professor Xavier insisted that Logan take with him. "For emergencies, in case you need something." _The day I need help from those overgrown boyscouts..._ He had humored the old man, mostly because Jean was there at the time and had said "please" with those doe-eyes of hers. The stupid thing was in the bottom of his duffel bag and he had all but forgotten that he had it. _Unless this is Jean calling to say she's dumped that one-eyed idiot, someone is going to die._

  
"Wolverine?" came the voice once Logan had finally found the metal circle. _It was the one-eyed idiot. Someone was going to die._

  
"Xavier told me no one was going to call me using this thing. This better be good Summers," he growled.

  
"Marie's missing."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

So what happened to Rogue? The quote doesn't seem to fit right now but it will become more relevant. I'm not really famaliar with Canadian governmently structure or if they even have a version of the Freedom of Information Act, but it seemed logical. If I'm wrong, consider it dramatic licsence or tell me and I'll try to fix it.


	2. Down the Rabbit Hole

I'm not sure if I'm competely happy with this chapter. I may repost it later, but I wanted to get it out. Tell me if it stinks.

Disclaimer: Insert one here. 

Thank you to all the reviewers! You're the best!

  
_Nowhere road...._

_Nothing. She was here and now nothing. Scents don't just vanish, there had to be something...Where hadn't he looked...What had he missed...._

  
"Anything, Logan?" Jean's voice was quiet, almost like she was afraid to ask the question. The winds had picked up and it was getting colder, but Storm was keeping away the rain, so that Wolverine could search. The trail was only a little over a day old, he should be able to find...._something._

  
"She came this way. You people should have been watching her. Magneto came after her once, why wouldn't he try it again?" He and One-Eye had already had this arguement in the Blackbird when they were flying back from Ottawa, and had gotten nowhere, but he wasn't about to just let it go.

Jean had that far away look she got when she was scanning, clearly not getting involved. Cyclops answered, "Magneto's still in prison and his machine was destroyed. He has no use for Rogue, we don't think it was him. But the Professor is questioning him now anyway." 

  
Wolverine was crouching lower to the ground and moved a bit toward the grass on the side of the road, "What about his goons? They might be out for a little payback,"

  
Cyclops was standing with his arms crossed, like he usually did, "Sabretooth and Toad were little more than mercenaries before they joined the Brotherhood. After Magneto was arrested, they went back to freelance work. Mystique is probably the only one with that kind of loyalty, but she's still pretending to be Senator Kelly and wouldn't have had time for something like this."

  
That didn't rule out anything in Logan's opinion, "But she still could have done it or even the other two. It's only _your_ guessing that says they didn't," 

  
Cyclops continued to stand there, face impassive. This was a pointless debate until they had more information. Another one of the students, a tracker named Rahne, had tried to find Rogue's trail, while he and Wolverine were in transit, but she lost the scent in about this area. If Logan was more successful, all future arguements would be moot. "Well, were any of them here?"

  
A low growl, "I can't smell em. But Magneto figured out away to hide from Chuck's telepathy, couldn't they have found a way to hide from my nose?"_ Scents don't just vanish! I know they don't._

  
A small nod conceded that point, but the reply,"Possibly," didn't sound very convinced. "Where does Rogue's scent go from here?

  
Logan was standing again, looking at the patch of half dead grass on the side of the the two lane road. "It stops here."

  
"What do you mean "stops"?" 

  
_Grrr_...One-Eye was picking a _really_ bad day to get on his nerves. "I mean it _stops_. It disappears, vanishes into thin air. Apparently just like she did! If you had done your job, you wouldn't be asking me these stupid questions, now would you?"

  
"I'm just trying..." Scott knew Logan was upset, so he was attempting to be diplomatic, but Wolverine was in no mood for niceties. 

  
"Trying to what? Obviously not trying to protect young, runaway mutants, like you say you do. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here!"

  
"No, you wouldn't," Scott had a look on his face Logan couldn't quite place, but knew he didn't like.

  
"What's that supposed to mean, _bub_? I would have protected her!"

  
"You weren't here," he didn't say it with malice or even a hint of anger. Just a statement of fact. That didn't seem to matter though, the only thing that kept Logan from tearing into Cyclops right there was Jean's restraining hand.

  
"Is there anything else, anything at all?" her voice was still soft.

  
"A kind of ozone smell. Faint, but there. It's only in this one spot," and he pointed to the ground. It was a the base of small rise that led into Salem Center. "I'm gonna keep following the trail, see if the scent picks up again." He didn't wait for an answer, or response of any kind. Spinning on his heels, he walked down the road, senses alert, looking for any trace of the missing girl. The girl he promised he'd protect. 

  
_A considerable time later..._

There was snow on the ground. Quite a bit of snow. _That's odd for September_, she thought to herself. What was even more odd, was the fact that she didn't remember there being any snow when she started walking to... _Where was I going again?_ ...she was on the road leading there from...from... Where did she start walking from anyway? A vague image of a large manor house flicked in her mind's eye then disappeared. _No...I was in my apartment_...The girl standing on the side of the road shook her head and brought her hands to her face as if trying to shake off a deep sleep.. Something wasn't right, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She looked down the road again. Where was it going again?, she knew a second ago. Despite the unseasonably snow and lack of helpful road signs, she started walking again..._again?_ _Had I been walking before? I just got home from work, I was sitting...NoNoNo..._? Shutting her eyes, she took a deep breath to banish the cofusion. The road had to go somewhere, and maybe somewhere would make more sense than here.

  
She stopped walking almost as soon as she started. _If I wasn't here before, then someone must have brought me here. Someone who could still be here..._A vague sense of danger grew in her mind, like a sixth sense, and she lifted a few feet off the ground and turned in a full circle looking for someone, anyone. _I was here before. Look there's Salem Center... What's Salem Center?!?_ From her point of view floating a few feet up in the air, she could see over a small rise and sure enough there was a disgusting cheery small town that bore a creepy resemblance to a slightly modernized Norman Rockwell painting. And it was decked out for Christmas entirely to early. 

  
A breeze picked up and blew a few errant snow flakes and several strands of hair into her face. She didn't even bother brushing them away as she continued to stare at that hideous little hamlet that seemed so familiar. At the same time, it wasn't at all, so it was absolutely terrifying. Somewhere, was as it was, made no more sense then the nowhere she's started from. 

  
After a few seconds of staring at the town, she had a thought and started rummaging through her pockets for her cell phone. She definitely needed information and probably back-up. _I'll see if Nick knows anything about this... Who's Nick? Shut up!_ But there was no phone, because she was wearing some odd-looking green peacoat instead of her usual bomber jacket. _Shut up!_ The ghost voice in her head that was trying to confuse her hadn't said anything yet, but she could tell it was about to. It was a ticking sort of fog creeping over the front of her brain. Unconsciously, her head starting shaking, as if to dislodge it. _Walking, start walking... get away from here. Get anywhere_. After a few minutes, she had walked into that horrible little town and there was a small drug store on her right. 

  
"Excuse me," she tried her best to look confused and not delusional, "I seemed to have managed to get _unbelievably_ lost," she flashed a small self-deprecating smile to clerk at the counter. "I don't think I even know what town this is." The clerk, aged somewhere between high school senior and college freshman, laughed sympathetically. 

  
"These roads can be bad, especially when it snows. This," he said gesturing broadly, "is Salem Center. In Westchester county, if that helps. We have maps on aisle one. Where exactly are you headed?" He started to move around the counter toward the said maps, intending to play tour guide, but the girl started toward the door instead. 

  
"That's okay, I think I can figure it out from here. Thanks," she tried to smile appreciatively and look exasperated with the state of American infrastructure at the same time. A confused tourist would have probably stayed and gone over maps, but she didn't think she was capable of carrying on the mundane conversation at the moment. The fog was still thick behind her eyes and the whisper still a low murmur. She opened the door to the fresh, cold wind which did little to clear her head. 

  
After she was gone, the clerk resumed his post. Four hours and only three people had been in the store. _I hate the off season_. Talking to that cute girl would have helped pass the time, even if she was a lost tourist. Not that this place was a tourist's Mecca by any means. Mostly it attracted people from New York City trying to get away for a weekend in the countryside. But this time of year when the countryside was cold and snowbound, everyone opted to just stay in the city. To pass the time in what had to be the world's most boring job, he would make up stories in his head about the people who passed through. The girl looked about his age, but she didn't sound like she was from New York. From her accent he would place her as from D.C. or maybe Baltimore. Around that area somewhere, definitely not anywhere south of Maryland, she didn't have a southern accent.

  
_New York_, she was in Westchester, New York. That was slightly reassuring in that she knew where New York was. _How? Why? Westchester? What am I doing in Westchester, New York!?! Why wouldn't I be...I told you to shut up already!_ When she was a good distance from the edge of the annoying cute little town, she immediately took to the sky. To find her way back home. 

  
  
_Further up the nowhere road...._

Bobby looked idly out the large front window, as more snowflakes started drifting lazily down onto the front driveway. The snow had started early this year and there had been a lot of it. It had been two months, two weeks and six days since Marie had vanished. Her last words were, "I'm bored. I'm gonna head into town." _How very memorable._ Logan had come back two days ago. He had stormed off to find Magneto's old Brotherhood, convinced they knew something about what had happened to Marie. Well, he was back now and she was still gone.

  
Mr. Summers was out shoveling the front walk way. He and Wolverine had another fight yesterday. Bobby didn't think too much of it, he wanted to yell at someone, too. But there was no one to yell at, no one to threaten or curse or hit, no one to bring Marie back. And what gave Wolverine the right to be the angry hurt one? He was the one that took off and hadn't even seen Marie in who-knows-how-long. _I'm her boyfriend, for crying out loud!_ Sort of. They had an unofficial rule that they could both see other people, but neither one of them really did. It was Rogue's idea, to be "fair" to him

  
A few more snowflakes hit the window. The school did have a groundskeeper and all the students took turns with the chores, but Mr. Summers was still out there. (Mr. Summers had said Bobby could call him Scott, but the older man didn't really seem like a "Scott,") As Bobby watched the snowflakes melt against the pane, he wondered if Jean had made "Scott" go outside, or at least leave the computer room. Since the extensiveand and numerous searches of the grounds, Salem Center and even New York City itself had turned up absolutely nothing, "Scott" had been in the computer room constantly since Marie "left." Not that it did any good. Not that Logan's way had done any good, either. There was just _nothing_. The sickening thought was that everyone was starting to give up. Jean had torn her boyfriend away from the police databases and now he was uselessly shoveling snow instead of uselessly searching for _nothing_. Mr.Summers was a restless type A kind of person and always needed something to do, useful or not. The front walk didn't even need shoveling. Marie had been...still is (Bobby refused to think of her in the past tense, _he_ wasn't giving up) restless. Not in the same way type A way as Mr. Summers. Marie could never sit still and listen to her own thoughts. That was probably one of the reasons she had gone for that walk. _I should have gone with her. Should have talked her into staying home...Should have done a lot of different things._

  
_Down the Rabbit Hole...  
_  
There was a fairly tall building that close to the bay, with an usually amount of antennae on the roof. It was only a few blocks from her apartment building and a good place to land unnoticed, well as unnoticed as one could be in the middle of a city. She had landed there before and just walked down to the street below. Usually, she drove home, like a normal person. But her car, along with her phone and normal clothes had vanished down a cosmic rabbit hole somewhere. Well, she would figure that out soon enough. Her head had cleared remarkably since she had started flying. By the time she landed on the roof of the aforementioned tall building, that annoying echo in the back of her mind had almost disappeared completely. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the salty breeze coming off the Chesapeake Bay and relished the lack of snow in here in Maryland. 

Briefly, she considered taking off the ridiculous green coat, but the air was still a little chilly, even if it wasn't freezing. However the stupid prom-looking gloves were another story. Of course, once she had stuffed the stupid looking gloves into the pocket of the equally stupid looking coat, she starting thinking that the coat, gloves and the rest of her "new" outfit would most likely be considered evidence and she should probably "tamper" with them as little as possible. _Hmm..the boys in forensics are not going to be happy._ _Oh well,_ i_f they have a hissy fit, they have a hissy fit, _she thought shrugging her shoulders and heading for the roof access door.

  
The door and the stairwell leading to the street below were exactly where she remembered them. The door was locked, but with a small twist the lock broke and she was on her way down. _I'll buy them a new doorknob, I just want to get home. _So far so good, nothing remotely delusional. Whoever was trying to screw with her mind would have to try harder. It wasn't working anymore. Although she still didn't know how or why she had ended up in upstate New York, she would soon be on the phone to Nick and he and the rest of SHIELD would help figure out who was trying to mess with her head. That thought was enormously reassuring and she couldn't help but smile to herself as she walked toward the front of her apartment building. 

  
As she reached for the handle on the glass doors, her breath caught in her throat as she stopped suddenly and spun around. In the glass in front of her was the reflection of a strange girl staring back. It looked so close that the girl must have been right behind her, but after turning, there was no one there, behind, or to either side. She caught the reflection again out of the corner of her vision and looked towards it to see if she could discern its source. The girl didn't look terribly dangerous. In fact, she looked more scared than anything else. Average height, build, long hair with a bleached stripe running down the front being her most noticeable feature. Clothing was fairly nondescript too. Jeans, boots, and an odd-looking green peacoat... There was no more breeze, but the temperature seemed to drop suddenly. The street got very quiet and the air very cold. While continuing to stare at the reflection, the image of the girl started getting smaller, like she was backing away from the door, just like her own feet seemed to be involuntarily backpedaling away. The cloud in her head that had been trying to confuse her in New York was back ten-fold and the ghost was whispering in thunderclaps._ I want to go home. I am home. No...Where am I? Shut Up! Shut UP! SHUT UP!_ The image in the door got smaller and smaller as if the source of the reflection had started running blindly away.

----------------------------------------------

Da-Dum...A cliffhanger ending, sort of. Rogue is "back," but not quite herself. You've probably figured out who she thought she was, but what happens now? The Chesapeake Bay in Maryland, somewhat near Washington, D.C., if anyone was wondering. Tune in next week, (hopefully if work cooperates), same bat-time, same bat-channel.  


Thank you again to the reviewers!

Gothica Faerie - First person POV is an interesting idea. I'll have a little bit of that, but I'm not sure if I could pull it off for the whole story though. Lolita's-Sister writes an unbelievable first person in "Une Danse Ronde" over in the Evo section. 

Ishadahalf-I'm not really a Scott basher. He's not my favorite, but I actually kinda like him, but Wolverine doesn't. As for the Gambit/Rogue romance, this is actually going to be a Wolverine/Rogue story. Ha, ha, just kidding! No offense to people who like those, but I just...don't.. 

AngstWolf()-What exactly happened to Rogue remains to be seen...

Tigereyes-Music in the background would be cool. Glad you like it so far.

Lucky439-Here's the next part. Hope you liked it.

Elim()- No Gambit yet, but soon.

Muccamukk- That's funny about the senator. I personally don't think the Canadian government is now nor has ever been up to anything sinister. I'm just following in the Marvel tradition of Canada having all assorted black-ops, spies and their very own super-soldiers. And whatever Logan may or may not think about the government, those were the only leads he had to go on. It doesn't really matter though, because that won't have much to do with the rest of the story


	3. Away

This would have been up sooner, but there was a massive crisis involving my sister's wedding invitations. It wasn't pretty. But it's over now so here now ischapter 3 and the (sort of) long awaited appearance of Gambit. I've kind of gone easy on the accents because A.) they are hard to write B.) I lived in the South for about five years and never heard anyone with as bad of accents as Remy and Rogue have in the comics. 

  
_"Who are You?" the Caterpillar said. "I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, sir," said Alice, "because I'm not myself, you see." _

_-Lewis Carroll, "Alice in Wonderland"_

  
_Away..._

"Hello? You okay? Can you hear me?" 

  
The girl in the green coat was finally starting to move. He wasn't sure if she could hear him, even understand him if she did. His Chinese was limited, but since that was the semi-offical language here, it was the first thing he tried. Although truth be told, the girl really didn't look like a local. From her clothes he would guess she was American, but it was impossible to be sure. 

She didn't look hurt, not a scratch or drop of blood visible, but she was unconscious at the bottom of a large hole on the side of the road. Never a good indicator of health. Actually, the hole more resembled an impact crater, like something large had hit the earth at an angle and then ground to a stop. From the size and the amount a dirt displaced the cause should have been something like a large semi-truck or a small ballistic missile. Something like that was bound to catch a body's eye even if they were driving too fast on the main road into Lowtown. Curiosity being one of his worst personal faults, he just had to stop and take a look. Instead of finding a large truck, there was a fairly small girl, cute, but nowhere near big enough to cause that kind of damage.

  
The... uniqueness of situation had initially stopped him from calling what passed for the local authorities in this place, but if the young lady didn't wake up soon he would have to try and call someone. Although, since Madripoor was a small country, best known for it's lax police force and lack of extradition laws, he wasn't sure how much he trusted emergency response personnel here. Well, that probably wasn't true for the the _entire_ country, but definitely this area.

There seemed to be voice. It sounded far away, but couldn't be too far if she could hear it. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw ...dirt and some rocks. Lifting herself off the ground, she tried looking around again and saw a large ...hole and a man at the bottom of the hole next to her inquiring about her health in what sounded like Chinese.

  
"I don't speak Chinese," was the nearly fluent reply that seemed to contradict that statement. 

  
The guy next to her stared at her for a second, but then just shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "That's probably a good thing, it's not xactly my best language." This time he spoke in English, going with his initial guess that she was American.

  
"Oh," was her only response as she continued looking around a bit dazedly and started brushing dirt off her clothes. "I guess I was flying...must've crashed," she said both to herself and the bilingual gentleman who must have found her here. Actually, he didn't look like a gentleman. With his sunglasses, seven-o'clock shadow and long, slightly battered leather coat, he looked like someone most people would cross the street to avoid, but she'd dealt with worse so wasn't overly concerned. At the moment, she couldn't remember exactly when she'd dealt with worse, but for some reason not remembering didn't bother her either. 

  
"You crash a lot?" Between the lady's unusual hair and finding her at the bottom of a large crater without a scratch, Remy had suspected she might be a mutant, but was slightly surprised she admitted it so quickly. He wouldn't have, but then again, his power didn't involve flying or staying in one piece after a crash landing. She probably wasn't afraid of much anything.

  
"No, not really," was all she said as her eyes continued to wander and hands occasionally brushed away stray locks of hair and bits of dust. 

  
"Are you hurt at all? Should I call a doctor..."

  
She cut him off immediately, "No! No doctors. I'm fine. Really." 

She _really_ didn't seem to like the idea of a doctors. _Okay..._ "Do you need to call someone?" a blank look as the girl shook her head no. "Do you need a ride anywhere? I could take you into town, if you want. I ain't sure if you're up to flying anywhere right now..." Again the _petite_ was absently shaking her head and wandering in the general direction of the highway, although it looked as though she wasn't really heading anyplace specific.

  
"Okay. Listen, _chere,_ if you don't want to mess with doctors or cops, I don't blame you, but I would advise getting away from the giant hole in the ground." While he was talking, he was trying to steer her towards his bike parked on the side of the road. "I know this is Madripoor, but eventually the cops are gonna notice something." The expression on her face changed somewhat and it finally seemed like she was starting to hear what he was saying. "You need a ride into town?"

  
She exhaled slowly and finally said, " Yeah, I think I really need a drink."

  
Remy laughed a little under his breath thinking that was the first thing she'd said that made any sense.

  
  
_Margaritaville..._

"Bethany?"

  
"No,"

  
"Betty?"

  
"No, don't think so,"

  
"Bertha Sue?"

  
"What? No!"

  
"It's a name," he said innocently.

  
"If I weighed two hundred pounds and drove a semi-truck it would be a name." Talking to the girl from the crater was one of the more interesting and entertaining things that had happened in the past few days. He had driven her into the city, the "Little America" section of Lowtown. They were currently in a corner booth of a not-quite-so-rundown bar called "The Princess." She couldn't recall her name or where she had been going when she crashed, or even what she was doing in this section of the world. He had gotten her up to speed on the current date and location. None of this information seemed surprising to her, which he guessed was a good thing. But it didn't seem to help trigger any memories either, which probably wasn't a good thing. The strangest thing was that her current amnesiac state didn't seem to worry her at all. She repeatedly insisted that she was fine, didn't need a doctor, just a good stiff drink. Then she nearly choked to death when she had tried to do just that, like she had never had a drink before. Currently, the _petite_ was giving him a dirty look across the table, while he was trying to think of a horrible name that started with the letter "C."

  
"I can tell you're up to something, so don't even think about it," she warned. Remy tried not to laugh while looking "innocent" again.

  
"_Moi?_ Up to something? I'm wounded, deeply. Here I was going to say "How about Christine?" but now there you are throwing around accusations..."

  
"Yeah right. And no, Christine doesn't sound familiar either. Why don't you pick a name...pick a _normal_ name and just call me that."

  
"Ah, dat's no fun. Carrie?," a shake of the head. The girl looked like she was starting to get bored with the name game. She was rummaging around in her pockets and pulled out a pair of gloves. "You cold, _chere_? I could help warm you up," he offered, oh-so-helpfully.

  
A somewhat pointed look, "I think I'll be okay with the gloves. Thank you so much for the offer though," she said sweetly, not meaning one word of it. As she pulled on one of the gloves, her coat sleeve slid down the other arm revealing a nasty looking bruise on her wrist. Bits mottled of purple still encirled her arm, but it was mostly covered in yellow and flecks of blue, indicating the bruise was at least a week old, maybe more given the size. So there was no way it couldn't have happened during the "crash."

  
Remy reached over to lightly take her hand and inspect the injury. "You literally fall from the sky, put a gigantic hole in the ground, but still look perfect. So how on _earth_ did you manage to do _that_?" His fingers gently traced the yellow skin. It looked to be healing fine, but he wondered how someone indestructable could have been hurt like that. When he thought about, though, she did come out of the crash without a scratch, but also without knowing her own name. Maybe she wasn't quite so indestructable.

  
She started rolling her eyes when he had taken her hand, although he wasn't even hitting on her this time. He _really_ was just checking to see if she was okay. His somewhat injured-but innocent look tried to convey that. Stifling a laugh at his reaction, she replied in complete seriousness and looked at him as if he was a little slow, "Well, obviously, I don't remember how I did this," holding up her wrist just a little bit. 

"Obviously, Of course. What a stupid question." he also said in complete seriousness.

"Exactly. It does look like it hurt though." she remarked absent-mindedly and with half a shrug she pulled on the other glove. Then she held her newly gloved fingers out in front of her and stared, a bit perplexed, shaking her head. "I must have really weird taste in clothes."

  
The gloves were, well, kind of weird. "They're unique," he said trying to be polite, even though she _was_ wearing opera gloves with jeans.

  
She sounded a tiny bit defensive at that, "Hey, I could ask you what's with the glasses? It's not terribly bright at _nigh_t, _indoors,_ in a _dark_ bar."

  
"What if I said I was visually impaired," he said trying to sound injured again.

  
She leaned back and crossed her arms, "That would explain your driving, but I don't think I'd believe you."

  
It was difficult to sound injured when trying not to laugh, especially when the laughter was winning. "Again, you wound me, but seriously, they're a force of habit," sliding his glasses down a few inches, his eyes, his black and red colored eyes, peered over the top, "to keep from freaking out the norms." To her credit, the girl looked slightly taken aback, but didn't flinch. Being an admitted mutant herself, she shouldn't have, but one can never be sure. "We got something in common, but not all of us can be as beautiful as you, _chere_."

  
For some reason, this seemed to strike the girl as terribly funny, " Red eyes aren't that unusual, especially in this place," she jerked her head gesturing to the rest of the bar and the obvious drunks in it. 

  
Leaning back and replacing his glasses, he chuckled, "I've been worried over nothing then. Carmen? Cecilia? Caroline?" a pause this time, she was looking thoughtful. "Is that it?"

  
"If it was, I think I'd go by Carol," she said slowly.

  
"Carol?"

  
She sighed and slumped a bit, in what was the first evidence of any frustration on her part, "It's a definite maybe,"

  
"Hey, "maybe" is the best I've done all night," and then she smiled. "Carol" had an incredible smile. 

_Somewhere darker... _

Mystique was a thorough women and usually a quite effective one, but over two months of banging her head against the wall and nothing to show for it were starting to get to her. She knew Rogue was alive, the books were clear on that much. At least, she thought they were. Other than that, they were maddeningly unhelpful. 

  
Mystique slammed the book in her hands shut and angrily threw it across the room. Although she was one to anger fairly easily, she _never_ lost her temper. That was a sign of weakness, loss of control. Far better to remain calm and plot a particularly vicious way to get even. Pausing a second after her momentary lapse, she walked over and calmly retrieved the book, inspecting the aged leather spine for damage. Despite their ineffectiveness so far, the diaries were still the only lead into Marie's disappearance. 

  
She flipped the book open for the thousandth time and stared at the page. For the millionth, time she wished Irene was still here. Deciphering the "prophesies" was difficult at best when Destiny was still alive. Ever since she had died, it had been next to impossible. That's why she had warned Magneto not to rely on them. 

  
Magneto may still be in prison, but she still kept an eye on things at the X-Men headquarters. Only now she had to be more careful because Xavier was watching things much closer. She couldn't do any in depth infiltration; just a cursory look around, which is why it took her so long to realize that Marie had disappeared. 

  
It was full day after it had happened before she heard a rumor second hand from some student. The "teachers" were supposedly trying to reach Wolverine to help track the girl because Cerebro couldn't find her. If Raven thought it would have been the slightest bit effective, she would have dragged Creed, a.ka. Sabretooth, down to help in the manhunt, but by the time either one of them got to New York it would be too late, if she was reading the diary right. She would track the girl down again, no question about that. The question was what exactly she would find...

_Way to early in the morning..._

_Black wrapped around, thick, suffocating, quiet... light...find a light, there was a scream, who was screaming? Is it me... no, she couldn't scream, it was lost in the muffling, horrible black..couldn't move, couldn't even open her eyes to get rid of the dark...Voices...who was there, they could talk...in the horrible dark screaming place, open my eyes, move, run anything....._The sound of insistent knocking shook her from the nightmare. Although she was unbelievably glad to be awake, who could be knocking this early in the morning? The clock on the night stand was trying to say it was actually 10:17, but that was clearly impossible. It felt like 4:17. 

  
Dead tired but with no desire to sleep, she grudgingly went to the door. Through the peephole, she saw the distorted, grinning face of the guy from last night, Remy, he said was his name.. Oh yeah, he had a room a few doors down. He had suggested this motel, because it was cheap and since all she had in her pockets were those gloves, forty three dollars, a lipstick and a hair scrunchie, she decided to try it. Remy had gallantly offered to let her stay with him, but even through she seemed to be losing her mind, she wasn't _that_ crazy. Question was now, was she crazy enough to open the door. _What the heck..._

  
"I brought doughnuts," was Remy's pronouncement upon entering. She looked surprised and not entirely happy to see him. He couldn't really blame her; he was just some strange guy she had met the night before. Wasn't sure what exactly he was doing here himself. It just didn't feel right to leave her alone in a foriegn country with no money and a potentially serious head injury. 

  
"Doughnuts? They have doughnuts in Madripoor?"

  
"_But of course_," he said in an exaggerated French accent. He sounded more or less Southern most of the time, but had a weird habit of slipping into French. Supposedly, he was Cajun. She wasn't sure if she believed him, only chicken fingers and cartoon characters with pet alligators were Cajun. And he was apparently still talking, "Like I told you last night, this area is popular with certain American -cough-expatriates-cough-..."

  
"You mean fugitives."

  
"If you want to get technical, yes. So, anyways, it has all the comforts of home. Speaking of which, how are you feeling today?"

  
He sounded just a little too chipper for so early in the morning. "Just peachy. I have twelve time zones worth of jet lag and I'm in a seedy motel talking to a possible serial killer," she grumbled while nearly collapsing into a battered chair next to the window. Her rumpled shirt was rapidly getting more rumpled. Wasn't much she could do about it though, being as she had no other ones to change into to. She was still wearing the gloves, too, even though she wasn't remotely cold.

  
"Thief, actually, if you want to get technical, but a thief who has doughnuts," he answered triumphantly, waving a large box around.

  
"How much do you think I eat?" Carol asked as she eyed the box. 

  
"I didn't know what kind you liked, so I got a little of everything. Ain't I sweet? Sides we can have the rest for lunch." _Lunch? He was planning on sticking around?_ Maybe if she pretended to want to go back to sleep, he'd leave. Of course, if he did leave, what would she do then? True, she could fly, she could go anywhere she wanted. And then she could wander around those streets aimlessly with her scrunchie and Rum Raisin lipstick.

  
"Lunch? And what's with this "_we_" stuff? Do you think I'm going to spend all day eating pastry and hanging out with a thief/possible serial killer in a vacation spot that's best known for it's non-existent extradition laws?" 

  
He merely leaned back and said quite honestly, "You got something better to do?"

  
It really was too early to be having this conversation with someone who was clearly insane. "I'm sure I do... I just don't remember what exactly."

  
"Hmm...Well, in the meantime, _chere_, have a doughnut."

----------------------------------------------

I couldn't resist bringing in Mystique. She's just so much fun. "Bertha Sue" is from Lori McDonald's "King of Theives" story. Excellent story.

  
Ishandahalf-Sorry for giving you a heart attack. I wasn't trying to be _that_ evil. I like Wolverine too. Just not with Rogue. Gambit and Rouge are just too perfect together. Didn't like the Bobby part? Maybe I'll look into changing that. Like I said at the beginning, I wasn't quite happy with that chapter, but I wasn't sure why. 

AngstWolf- You figured it out? Cool, you're probably right. But here are a few more clues for you to check.  


Muccamukk()-Yeah, you wouldn't think that a country like Canada would have so many dark secrets. It's always the quiet ones...:) Hey, I pay for lots of government officals that I'd rather not. Seriously, though, a movie fan should be able to follow the story pretty well. The country of Madripoor is from the comics. Wolverine used to hang out there alot. And the book Mystique has and Irene/Destiny are both from the comics, and will be explained more later on. You know who Remy is, that's the most important part!

  



	4. Still to early

Just a short chapter this time, but more Remy! :) 

  
_Still to early..._

Despite her protestations to the contrary, she never did remember her other pressing appointments and ended up eating doughnuts with a thief/serial killer, while he tried hacking into police databases with his laptop and cell modem to see if he could help her with her "identity crisis". He did find out that the military agency, S.H.I.E.L.D., had an all points bulletin out for one of their agents, a _Carol_ Danvers, but she turned out to be a blond, a good ten years older and three inches taller than his _chere_. Carol had stared at that picture a longtime though, before she declared she was too tired for this anymore. That had been last night and even though it was 11:00 am now, judging by the number of times he had to knock on her door, she had slept in, again. Not that he was one to criticize, being a thief, he was naturally nocturnal. When the door was finally opened, her bleary, bloodshot eyes didn't look nocturnal, just sleep deprived. "Morning, _chere_. That jet lag hasn't caught up with you, yet?"

  
_That's a stupid question._ She didn't actually say that, wasn't quite consciousness enough yet, just turned around and headed back into the room, while rubbing her eyes. He was back. _Why does he keep coming back, other than to call me "chere" and bring doughnuts? Ha! He's a guy. Why do you **think** he keeps coming back? Hmm...I don't know, that seems like a lot of trouble to go through..._

  
"Did you say something?"

  
"What? No..."

  
He was grinning, "You were talking to yourself? You do that a lot?" he didn't even wait to be invited in, just waltzed through the door and sat in the same chair as yesterday.

  
"It would seem so," she said that like it was the most natural occurrence in the world and then yawned. 

  
"I guess as long as you don't start arguing with yourself, you'll be okay."

  
That comment elicited a somewhat unladylike snort, "Just what I need, mental health advice from a fugitive thief/serial killer with a doughnut fixation." After she said that, she was thinking that she should probably be more polite to the nice thief with the doughnuts. He did lend her ten bucks yesterday so she could stay in this "charming" four star resort for another night. _Reduced to borrowing money from petty criminals...Are you sure he's "petty"?...I really gotta get outta here...Maybe Paris...hmm...and you and your lipstick will do what there? We can sell crepes at one of those sidewalk stands... _

  
"Hello?" there was a waving hand in front of her face. 

  
After blinking a couple of times she pushed the hand away, irritated that her "guest" had realized that she had zoned out for a minute. At least she hadn't started talking to herself again. "Stop that,"

  
He was laughing. She was irritated and he was laughing , "As I was saying before, I threw in a few bagels today for variety, _d'accord chere_?"

  
She grumbled, "Enough with the French already. Ya sound like Pepe LePew when ya talk like that," 

  
"Look whose calling who a skunk." She glared, but sub-consciously tucked a streak of her white hair behind her ear. He continued, "And what's wrong with my accent? I'm not making fun of yours," 

  
_What was he talking about? I don't have an...Wait I just said "ya," five seconds ago, didn't I_? Sighing resignedly, she sat down in the chair across from to his. "I guess that can be the next lead. Missing people from trailer parks," she opened the doughnut box, searching for something chocolate.

  
He chuckled, "Hey, come on now. No need to pick on us Southerners. Besides, it's not that bad. I couldn't hardly tell you had an accent last night. I think it gets stronger when you're annoyed. Guess that means I'll have to make sure I'm nice to you, right?" There was that smile again. He could get used to seeing that.

  
The smile didn't last for very long, though. Still over the box, she picked up a frosted cruller, but put it back down again. Slumping back in the chair, she sighed again.

  
Trying to bring the smile back, "I got my computer here and I thought of a couple more places I could check...." that didn't seem to be working. In fact, it seemed to be having the opposite effect.

  
She noticed he had stopped talking and was looking confused. "Sorry," her strange gloves were sitting on the table and she started figdeting with them while thinking about what to say. "Despite the french crack, I really do want to thank you. You've been a lot of help, I guess I just don't..." She was searching for words. Wasn't sure what she felt herself, let alone how to express it to anyone else. "Well...I don't know what I'm trying to say...I guess I _am _crazy, so that's to be expected," a wry smile.

  
She didn't seem to like this serious turn in the conversation, so he followed her lead in taking it back to a lighter tone. "You're not crazy. You're just not yourself today." He leaned in conspiratorially, "Honestly, I think it's something in the water. Have you noticed, none of the people here seem quite right?" 

  
Her head flew back in a ridiculous laugh, "You mean how they all act like criminals?"

  
"Exactly! You just need to get out of Madripoor, then you'll be fine," he gestured forward with one hand, solving all of her problems.

  
"Sounds like a good idea. I don't know what I'm doing here anyway. You're "on the lam" and all, so-" 

  
"Hey, the correct term is 'lying low.'"

  
"Sorry, how very un-PC of me," she conceded apologetically, "You're "lying low," so you have to be here, but I got no reason for sticking around." Still playing with the gloves, she looked up at the ceiling, as if seeking divine answers from the light fixture. _Yes, why are you still here? Let's just **leave**, go with the Paris idea..._ Idlly curious and anxious to stop her current train of thought, she asked, "How long does one usually lie low' anyway?" Maybe if she really concentrated on what he was saying, she would stop "talking" to herself.

  
"...depends really. On..." Okay, so far, she wasn't doing on great job of concentrating, try harder. 

  
"...how many people are looking for you...if they are people besides cops, like the mob or something, then it gets trickier..." The concentrating was starting to work. "Actually I probably don't have much to worry about. It's been over a week now and I've been watching out," he nodded his head towards the laptop, "I don't think anyone's looking for me."

  
"So you didn't get caught?"

He smirked, "Yes and no. No, I didn't get caught. I'm too good for that," he seemed just a bit mildly insulted, to which her reaction was to roll her eyes again. "But, I left behind my "calling" card," he then flicked a playing card out of his coat sleeve, like a street magician. 

  


It looked like a normal card, a ten of spades, no name or anything on it, "I take it that's a trademark of yours? And do you always advertise where you've been?" that didn't seem too bright for a professional.

"_Oui and Non_, I only advertise when it's personal," Again with the French, but she didn't say anything this time, just a look. At her look, he tossed the card up into the air where it disappeared in a puff of pink smoke with just the smallest sound.

That was obviously what his power was. Looking the spot where the card had been, "That's mildly impressive. I assume you can make bigger explosions for safes and vaults and stuff."

"_Oui._ But I don't use my powers too much when I'm working. Too easy to trace back,"

"Unless you what them to know," she was thinking of his "calling card" again. It still didn't make a whole lot of sense to her, but it was still too early to think about it much.

"_Oui,_" Still more French and he was grinning again.

She reached for the cruller again, "Now ya just trying to annoy me,"

Which he was, trying to bring out her accent again, "It wouldn't help to say you're beautiful when you're irritated, would it? And that I love your accent?" 

Further glaring, "No it wouldn't." He laughed, and started shuffling some more cards that had magically appeared out of thin air. Shaking her head, she leaned back, and ran her spare hand through her hair. "Well, as long as you're not throwing any of those things at some innocent security guard-"

Looking insulted again, "I'm a thief, not an assassin. I only steal-"

"Alright, alright. I believe you," he looked slightly appeased. "I bet you only rob from the rich and give to the poor too, right?" she said as she licked some chocolate off her fingers.

Shrugging his shoulders, half distracted by her licking her fingertips, but he still managed to answer,"I gave a ten thousand dollar bearer bond to an ophanage once, so I give to the poor. But I _always_ rob from the rich. They've got insurance to cover all their stuff."

Nodding in agreement, "That's true, and rich people have all the best stuff to steal," she couldn't resist pointing that out.

He nodded back, not looking at all ashamed, "Pretty much."

Well, at least he didn't seem to be a violent criminal. "So, this guy you have something personal against, are you sure he didn't report you?"

"I don't think he would have. Bring up too many questions to the cops about himself."

"But he could come after you himself?"

"Yeah. But he hasn't yet. So either he can't find me or didn't bother. I'm think I'm in the clear. So that means I don't have to stick around here any more, either," he reached over for a blueberry bagel. "Getting out of this place actually sounds like a pretty good idea. Wanna come with me?" He actually held his breath a little when he asked that question, completely unsure of how she'd respond and why on earth he'd asked it to begin with. He didn't want to leave her alone, of course...he didn't want to leave her, period. That couldn't be it...he barely knew her, why would he care...and why did he care so much what she was about to say? Her head jerked up just faction and then her face got that far away look.

The surprise at his question caused her concentration to lapse just a bit. _What? No, I'm not going anywhere with some lowlife- _"Sure. I got nothing better to do." And she smiled. He could _really_ get used to seeing that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Only had time for short update this time. Work has been crazy and my sister's getting married in _another state_ this week, neither situation is conducive to writing. But the next chapter should be longer. I think I spelled cruller right, spellcheck says I did, but it still looks funny. If it was wrong, crullers are those twisty looking doughnuts, that's what I was trying to write.

Ishandahalf-I'm glad that you forgive me.(After all, you've reviewed all of my chapters so far.) Rogue isn't exactly "Carol," there is still a lot of "Rogue." I don't think Carol wouldn't have stayed in Madripoor with Remy at all. She just would have taken her chances flying off. Rogue is the one that doesn't like to be alone.

Neurotic Temptress- The Rogue/Carol "tug of war" was something I always liked. But you may have noticed that there hasn't been much "war" recently. Carol has been playing awful nice...

4Rogue- I thought the gradually approach would be better here, especially with Rogue having her current mental problems. There will be more of Remy. Stupid movie that doesn't have Gambit in it....grumble, grumble.

Muccamukk()- A passive/aggressive world takeover? Hmm..take just might work! This where the supervillians have been going wrong all those years! I'm glad you find the story easy to follow, I'll try to keep it that way.

lori- Yes, it is a bit on the weird side, I like wierd. Hopefully, you still like the dialogue.

Dixiehnsnluver- Darn pesky computers. They're always doing something to cause trouble. My computer just ate all of my favorite fonts and I have to try and figure out how to get them back. But happy you like the story.


	5. Getting away from here

_"Who are You?" the Caterpillar said. "I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, sir," said Alice, "because I'm not myself, you see." _

_-Lewis Carroll, "Alice in Wonderland"_

_"The past isn't dead. it isn't even past." _

_- William Faulkner_

_Ago..._

  
There was a shuffling sound, that was what woke Raven up. It wasn't very loud, but years of habit had made her a light sleeper. The sound was coming from upstairs. Looking around she also noticed that Irene was not in the bedroom, so Raven got up and followed the shuffling noise down the hallway to the small attic.

  
She hoped the noise wouldn't wake the baby. The "little angel" had some type of stomach bug and it was making her extremely irritable. _Her and her mother both,_ Raven thought wryly. It had taken over three hours to get that girl to sleep. Although she had complained at the time and asked Irene repeatedly, "Why exactly did you want to have children?" she secretly couldn't picture life any different. When Irene first mentioned starting a family, Raven thought the woman had gone crazy. After all her "occupation," mercenary spy, didn't exactly lend itself to child rearing. But Destiny didn't let go of the idea. It was what she wanted and Raven would do anything for her. 

Irene and Marie, their little unassuming suburban house that Raven had absolutely hated at first...her family. Things she never thought she wanted but now couldn't live without. She had even cut back on "work" to spend more time at home. In short, she was dangerously close to becoming domestic._ Perish the thought._   
The attic entrance consisted of only a short flight of steps. It was dark inside, of course, Irene didn't need the light. Making her way up the stairs as the shuffling continued. Being as it was rather late to be rearranging the attic, Raven wondered what could Irene possibly be up to. Pausing at the threshold to flip the light switch, she there saw Irene rummaging, almost frantically, though a trunk that looked to be full of old books. 

  
Lifting her head only slightly at the sound of someone else approaching, the older woman said, "I had a dream, help me find the right book," without wasting a second to acknowledge Raven's presence or stop in her own searching. A knot started to grow in Raven's stomach. Since Irene's power was to see the future, her dreams were not to be taken lightly. Also, she recognized the books. Irene's old diaries, the ones she wrote when she was just a young girl and her precognitive abilities first manifested, before she had gone blind. When the visions came so fast and so frequently, that she wrote or drew everything she saw, as a way to just stay sane.   


Raven immediately rushed over, kneeled down and took one of the volumes from Irene's blind glaze. "Which book? What am I looking for, and what happened?"

  
"It's somewhere between the third and the eighth, I think. I'm looking for a picture of a girl, about sixteen with long brown hair. I know it's in one of these." Despite Raven's assistance, Irene had picked up another one of the books and was thumbing uselessly through the pages. The minutes stretched on endlessly while Raven desperately searched the jumbled pages.

  
"Here," this was the third picture that matched Destiny's vague description. Describing it, "This one is a girl with a long green coat standing in the snow. The writing to the side talks about running north into the wolf's lair."

  
"Yes, Yes that's the one," Irene grabbed the book for Raven's hands and "looked" down at the page, trying to remember it exactly. "There's another picture of her...I know it's here." More useless thumbing through old paper. The book's spine creaked ever so slightly as Raven gently took the volume from the older women hands. She couldn't remember that last time she'd seen Irene so shaken. Whatever this was about it wasn't going to be good. Sure enough five pages later, there was the girl again

  
"Describe it to me," Irene was getting more and more anxious by the second.

  
"It looks like the same girl, but in this picture she looks hurt... There's another picture next to it...part of a man's face, I think, his eyes are red. "...consumed by a hidden demon... draining of the soul...void filling with dark madness...," she trailed off, waiting for Irene to explain. Silence. There was of course, more written. All of these books were filled with rambling Nostradamus-type prose. Destiny didn't understand the passages when she wrote them, and passing time didn't always help make them clearer. Raven continued to wait, desperately hoping she was misunderstanding the pages, but Irene continued to sit there, head down. "Irene, tell me what's going on," she urged in a desperate whisper..

  
"I had a dream," the older woman repeated, but her voice was quiet now. All of the frantic energy had bleed from her and she was preternaturally still. More waiting and the silence returned, filling the room until it suffocated. "I saw our little Marie grown. She was a beautiful girl and strong, so strong...just like we'd taught her to be. And then she was, gone, just vanished. I awoke and remembered where I had seen her face before." Irene stopped and her head hung again, looking even older in dim attic light. 

  
Raven started shaking her head adamantly in denial, "Well, that's not going to happen. You've seen it. Now we know the danger. I will personally track down this soul-draining..."

  
"He will kill you," was the flat, emotionless rely.

  
"I don't care!" Standing up, Raven began to pace the small room, determined to think of a way around the future.

  
"We have to protect her..."

  
"I know! That's what I'm going to-"

  
"Someplace she'll be safe. Someplace where no one knows her power. I told you she would have power one day, like us. This _thing_ wants her power, I'm sure of it," Shakily, Irene finally stood up, still clutching the book, "I remember this vision. We cannot stop this creature, but we must save our daughter." 

  
"NO! We will find a way to stop this. If you have to search every permutation of the future there is. If I have-"

  
Mystique woke with a start, like she usually did when she had that dream. The room seemed unbelievably cold. After Marie was gone, she held on to house, in hopes of her little girl being able to return. After she lost Irene, too, she gave up the pretense and moved far away from the horrible house she'd grown to hate again. Never again would she pretend to be something she wasn't. It didn't last and wasn't worth it. 

  
In the years since, Destiny's death, she had tried to use her love's diaries to prevent some of the prophesies, it was the only way to get her daughter back. But even when she could understand what the diaries were saying, her actions, rather than prevent, seemed to help the predictions occur. She now understood why Irene had become such a fatalist in her later years. Fatalistic to the point where she did nothing to prevent her own death.

  
Sleep had lost all of its attraction, so Raven headed off to the kitchen in search of coffee, taking with her that cursed book. Her salvation and damnation. It was only recently that she had noticed a very small detail. 

  
In the second picture of Marie, her hair was highlighted in the front and it looked like a white stripe. The last desperate attempt at changing the future, had been to tell Eric about Marie and her "gift". The girl could be used to power his machine, leaving Eric free to direct events afterward. In the process, her daughter would die, but die a martyr's death to create a new world for her kind, rather than be "drained of her soul." But that too failed, and it was the stress of Eric's machine that gave Marie that "highlight" in her hair. Once again, playing Cassandra had only served to help the future along. The book lay unopened on the kitchen table. Raven Darkholme had always imagined she had lost the ability to cry a very long time ago. As such, she merely stared dry-eyed and hollow into the coffee cup for the rest of the night. 

_Getting__ out of here..._

Gray rain was coming down even harder now. Water streamed down the floor length window pane in one endless diaphanous curtain making it nearly impossible to see outside. "Does it always rain like this?" Carol bemoaned. The glassed-in patio of the restaurant, "Die Fenster," had an "amazing" view. Unfortunately, on the way there it had started to rain, and rain, and rain. She and Remy were in Germany at the moment, and it could be worse, it _was_ the middle of winter, it should be a blizzard outside. Eventually they were headed back to the States, but in no particular hurry

  
"It wasn't raining this much the last time I was here. It must be you and your bad _mojo_." She was glaring at him now. A fairly common occurrence over the past month. He just smiled more broadly, and that would make her glare harder and then he'd say something inane to make her laugh. And there was nothing in the world like the sound of her laugh. 

  
They had left Madipoor sometime ago. He really didn't need to be there anyway, it was just a precaution, but he was very glad he had decided to be overcautious. When he said he felt like getting out of here, wanna come with, she said okay. So after that day, they had just been more or less inseparable.   
It was rather strange when he thought about it, so he tried not to think about too much. He was used to picking up girls in odd places, but never did they stay for so long. Not that he had actually _tried_ anything, beyond his usual flirting, because he didn't want to look sleazy, expecting something in return for his help. Somewhere along the way though, the situation had changed. It wasn't him helping her anymore, it was more like they were just friends traveling together. Only he wasn't quite sure he wanted to be her friend anymore... 

  
Right now, he had a lead on stolen Nazi paintings and was trying to impress Carol with his "noble" side. She didn't seem to particularly care for his line of work, even though he was trying to teach her the finer points of picking locks. _In cases you ever leave your keys in the car, _was his reasoning.

  
They had been doing some last minute checking on the paintings and had decided to call it a day and get something to eat. Remy mentioned the restaurant. It wasn't very fancy, but had a great view and was the only place to get edible German food. He liked the cuisine in Germany just about as much as he liked English food; that is to say not at all.

  
A gloved finger tapped impatiently against her temple. It was much colder in Europe than it had been in Southeast Asia, so she had plenty of excuses to wear gloves. Although she had replaced the prom looking ones with a more normal pair. Honestly though, the cold didn't bother her much, side effect of being invulnerable probably, but she always wore gloves anyway. It just felt weird when she didn't. Still looking out the window, trying in vain to see past the torrents of water, she asked, "How long is that guy going to be out of town?" referring to the "owner" of aforementioned paintings. 

  
"Another week. We still got time. We could always case the building again,"

  
"In the this downpour?!" she truly sounded aghast.

  
He started to laugh, "It'd be the perfect cover. No one would see us..."

  
"No," she wadded up her napkin and threw it at him. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily for him, the building was rather empty, but he still wondered how much it would take to get them thrown out.

  
A few more offers to try to find her identity had been made, and were always meet with a lukewarm response. She'd say "yeah, sure," but her heart was never in it. It was something Remy could understand. He had the feeling that if he woke up one day having forgotten his entire life, he'd actually be much happier. 

  
Turns out that such a thing didn't have to be the result of a head injury. Technically, it was called a "fugue state." He could look up other things besides paintings. His traveling companion may have no problem her "mental state," but he wanted to make sure she was okay. A fugue state was a form of traumatic amnesia, where not only would someone "forget" who they were, they would also run away. Sometimes even creating a new identity, in order to distance themselves from whatever traumatic thing that had happened. The disorder didn't really explain her mood swings or the "talking to herself," but those had started to go away on their own anyway. For the first few days he could barely keep her attention, but now she seemed fine. So he didn't worry about that too much.

  
Now if the amnesia would start going away, everything would be fine. According to the psychiatric website, a "fugue" could last anywhere from a few hours to several months. Sometimes a person would start remembering on their own, familiar things would trigger a recall. She was definitely into the months category, but with the exception of the odd epiphany about mocha cappuccinos, wasn't recalling much of anything. Flying, strength and invincibility, were her only powers, but he suspected she had a little bit of psi in her. Not enough to be really noticeably or usefully. Just enough to make her a little moody every so often. And probably just enough to give the "fugue" a little extra staying power. The only real "cure" for a fugue state, though, was to deal with the "trauma" that caused it.   


That left the question of what could be so scary to someone who could stop bullets and bench press tanks. Whatever she was running or hiding from, he didn't particularly want to know. After finding that website, he had tried to tell Carol about it. When he was through with his explanation, she had said she felt like getting some french fries. Was there a chance of finding a Burger King around here? There was probably a McDonald's somewhere, but Burger King fries were better. After that, he hadn't mentioned it again.   


"Aw, come on, _chere_, a little rain never hurt anybody," another napkin sailed in his direction.

  
"You _want_ me to catch pneumonia, LeBeau?" Maybe the cold didn't bother her, but that didn't mean she _couldn't_ catch pneumonia, or that she particularly _liked_ being soaked.

  
"You know I'd never do that to you, _mon amour_," 

  
"Don't call me that!" another napkin and a great show of rolling eyes.

  
"What? You doubt my love for you,_ Marie_?" A couple weeks ago, on a train through Bern somebody had called for a "Maria" and Carol had turned around. Ever since then, despite repeated death threats, he had been calling her that, but he would use the French version, "_Marie_" with the soft "r, " and he would exaggerate it.

  
"Yes, yes I do. Just like I doubt your love for the waitress, the girl who asked for directions this morning..." 

  
"Hey! I was just talking to them. I never confessed my undying-Ow!"

  
There were only four place settings on this table. She was out of napkins by now, and had instead chucked a spoon at him and had put some muscle behind it. The undying love cracks were irritating, but she secretly loved the way he said _Marie_, and was debating about whether or not to start going by that name. Both sounded familiar, they were probably her first and middle name, or one was a nickname or something. Even if she did decide to change it, she would still _have_ to give him grief about pronouncing the "r." 

  
He was rubbing his arm and looking around to see if they were about to get kicked out. The scary thing was he did love her, when he wasn't careful. When he forgot to remind himself that he really shouldn't. Actually, he had tried something once. Had tried kissing her in Prague, on a mediaeval stone bridge, at sunset even. She'd turned her head and said that probably wasn't a good idea. Which it wasn't. So he agreed with her and laughed it off. It was another complication neither one of them needed.  
So he didn't push her, nor did he give up entirely. Logically he should...kept telling himself that...She was only with him out of necessity...Never really meant for this to happen anyway. 

  
When he asked her to come with him, he honestly didn't think she would. But she did, and he thought of the situation as a good way to earn karmic bonus points, and it never hurt to have a pretty girl around. He was lying to himself when he said he wasn't sure about not wanting to be her friend anymore, he knew he didn't, but she hadn't taken that detour, yet...hopefully. Every once in a while, he'd catch a few glances in his direction, but apparently those weren't enough for her to change her mind. 

  
The rain never did stop, but they did manage to not get kicked out of the restaurant. And the food wasn't too bad, he was pained to admit. Even more amazing, they both managed to not get completely drenched on the way back to the motel. It was the latest in a long series of non-descript motels. _Marie_ would tease him about his constant traveling sometimes. Ask him if he ever missed having a mailing address or full sized fridge. 

  
Being trapped in the motel room tonight, because of said incessant rain, Carol had started a game of solitaire on the table next to the window, occasionally looking up hopelessly to see if the sky had cleared. It never did. The rain finally turned to snow and it was even more impossible to see outside through the thick white against the indigo of the night sky. A clump of snowflakes hit the glass and slowly started to melt.

  
"It's almost Christmas, isn't it?" she asked looking over her shoulder toward Remy, while she shuffled.

  
Thinking about that for a second as he took off his coat, "Yeah, guess it is," he did a slight double take, "Did you steal my cards?"

  
She grinned as she played the ace of diamonds "Oh? Are these yours?" she asked oh-so-innocently and then laughed, "You should be proud of me. Took you five minutes to notice,"

  
"Beginner's luck," he muttered as he sat down one of the beds 

  
She drew an eight of hearts, and looked for a place for it, "I think we should go to Paris for Christmas. If you're in Europe for the holidays, where better to spend Christmas?"

  
An eyebrow quirked, "Did you a hold of a brochure or somethin'? You sound like a tour guide,"

  
With a mock pout, she threw a card, like she'd seen him do before. The piece of cardboard only made it about four inches before flopping about ungracefully to the floor. He bit his lip to keep from laughing. The mock pout turned to a mock threatening glare, "You just watch it, mister. I got plenty more where those came from."   


"Would you like me to move a little closer? Would that help?"

  
The too-sweet smile was back, "Actually, that'd be great. Could you? Oh, and when we get to Paris, you are _not_ allowed to break into the Louvre," she admonished, and he wasn't quite sure if she was serious or not.

  
That really wasn't his style anyway, he hit mostly private collectors, "Can I just sneak in and rearrange a couple of pieces? I promise not to steal anything," 

  


A finger tapped her chin, making a great show of pondering his question. In her best humoring voice, "Hmm...I guess so, but if you take so much as a postcard from the gift shop, I'll dropkick your butt back to Madripoor," shaking another card at him for emphasis. She was going to try throwing it, but realized that it was a king and she could start a new row with it instead.. 

Being stuck in the snow didn't seem so bad anymore. It was nice to relax for a little. Constantly being on the go got tiring. She propped up her knee against the side of the table, not finding a spot for the ten she was curretently holding, so she drew again and got a six which was much better. Talking about paintings reminded her of something she wanted to ask earlier that day, "By the way, did you ever find that one guy, was he the son or the grandson of the original owner?" she asked as she put the six of clubs on the seven of hearts.

  
"Great-nephew, and no, he died in 87. So there's no family left."

  
Playing a two, "So no family. That means the paintings will end up in the Holocaust museum, then, right?"

  
He quirked his head to the side a bit. "Probably eventually, yeah."

  
Pausing in mid-arc and holding a card, she gave him quite the evil look, "Eventually? What does that mean exactly? If you plan on fencing stolen-"

  
"Easy, _chere_. Nothing like that. And watch where you're pointing that thing," he nodded to the card in her hand, poised and ready to throw. She just ignored him and continued looking evil. "They will go to a museum...just by way of an Israeli businessman who has a standing reward for any return of stolen property."

  
"Standing reward?" accompanied by a dubious expression.

  
"Hey, he tries to find any family, too and maybe he'll have better luck, but if he can't, he donates it to the Jerusalem museum,"

  
She sat back and thought about that for a second, dubious expression still in place. 

  
"It all ends up the same, so what the harm?" She might have protested more, still wasn't entirely happy with this idea, if not for the fact that she had been basically mooching of him for the past month. The boy did need to make a living. He couldn't be doing too bad, though, even if his clothes could be described as upscale homeless, he always seemed to have money. It was tempting to tell him to get a real job, but then again she could just as easily tell herself that, too. 

  
"Come on, don't give me that look," he was still trying to justify himself. Didn't know why he was trying to justify himself. Had never bothered with what people thought about him before. 

  
Another "look," that seemed to be saying "what look?" Then she relented, "Alright, alright, I'm not giving you any look. You're right. It all ends up the same, so it doesn't matter how." With that she turned back to the solitaire game.

_  
So much for nobility points_. This just another example of how she didn't really know him after all. "I'm not doing this for the money. If that was the reason, there are a whole lot better things to steal."

  
"I know," she answered only looking up briefly from her game, and drew a jack, which she couldn't do anything with. _Aww, look now. You've gone and hurt his feelings... shut up._ Her head jerked a fraction. She hadn't been "talking to herself" in a weeks and it startled her a bit. She didn't say anything else for a while, not because she was giving him the cold shoulder, but because she was trying her concentration trick to keep out the voice. Having gotten used to not talking and/or arguing with herself, she wanted to keep it that way.

  
Movement from the other side of the room caused her to finally turn her head. Remy was still sitting on the bed, elbows on his knees looking at the floor. _Wonder if he still thinks I'm still mad?_ He was taking something out of his inside coat pocket. A shiny, sparkly something. It looked like jewelry. 

  
It seemed "quiet" enough now to resume conversation, but something had changed in his face in the few minutes she had been "concentrating" on her game. She started with the obvious question, "What's that?" 

  
There was a very grim smile on his face as he looked up at her. It had been over a half hour that she'd ignored him, when she supposedly' wasn't mad. "This? I could get a lot for this. It started off being about the money, but it's not any more." "This" was a necklace. What could have been a large sapphire or a _huge_ blue diamond twinklied in an ornate setting in the center and progressively smaller stones radiated off from there to form a diamond chain. 

  
"It's pretty, in a big, gaudy sort of way, but what on earth are you doing carrying around something like _that_ in your pocket?" he kind of smiled when she said that, but didn't laugh. 

  
The necklace shuffled it from one hand to another, like he was playing with a hideously expensive slinky. "It's called the _L'Etoile de Tricherie_, the Cheating Star. This is the third largest blue diamond in the world and it's the whole reason I was in Madripoor." He shouldn't be telling her about this. Any standing he had in her eyes would be gone, but judging from the last thirty minutes, there obviously wasn't a lot there to begin with. Not that he could blame her. Nothing about her life right now was real, and she deserved to know _some_ truth. If it was this trurth that finally drove her leave and find her life again, so be it. Actually, from what he knew about her, she would probably start another "pretend" life, but hopefully it would be a better one. "You know I was lying low' for a little while. Usually, I don't have to worry about that. When I take something, nobody don't even now that its gone, let alone who took it."

  
Carol didn't like the look in his eyes, which were glancing to the side rather than at her. _Why won't you look at me?_ "So you're getting sloppy in your old age?" She was getting good at this gallows humor, though she did remember; this was about the "personal" thing.

  
"No," one of the rare times he was doing the glaring, "This was personal, I told you that. They definitely know who done it. I wanted em to know. I wanted em to try and come get me."

  
It wasn't often that he was so serious. Mentally, she kicked herself for not trusting him about the paintings and cursed the stupid voice for making him think she was mad. That was the only possible reason for his mood shift. The card in her hand hung there, temporarily forgotten. "Can I ask why?" Part of her didn't want to hear what his answer. Wanted to just say she was sorry and get things back to normal. Another part was morbidly curious. Both parts weren't even sure he would answer her in the first place. For someone who talked so much, he gave out surprising little information. At first, he didn't say anything, just continued to dangle the necklace between his two middle fingers. Sparkles from the dim overhead light danced off the diamonds in the chain.

  
"It once belonged to Marie Antionette. Most recently, it belonged to a guy named Hertzog, Canadian ambassador to France." She wasn't sure if that qualified as an answer, but he continued.

  
"A few years ago, Hertzog's mistress, Genevieve Darceneaux, stole it and fled to Paris. While she was in Paris, I got close to her and then I stole it." A pause, more sparkles merrily radiated off the chain, oblivious to somber tone in the room. "Yes, it was as bad as it sounds. I liked her, not enough to _not_ steal her necklace...I figured she couldn't really hold that against me, since she'd done the same thing. Was gonna give her a few weeks to calm down, then I'd call her up. Maybe give her chance to steal it back. It was all just a game."

  
"But..." there was more coming, Carol was sure of that. The look on his face already told her it wasn't going to be good. Well, it started out not good and it was going to get worse. 

  
He continued, his voice somewhat low, but even and he seemed to be looking at something very far away. "But Hertzog didn't want to go to the police. They'd ask too many questions. Genny was hoping for that, it would give her more time to get away. Instead, he hired someone to get "his" necklace back. A psycho someone. Psycho said give him the Star or Genny goes head first off of Notre Dame. So I give him the necklace,"

  
Knowing how this story was going to end. "But he killed her away,"

  
"Oui," he was idly fingering the small diamonds and looking at the floor. "I went looking for that guy, didn't find him, but did find out that anyone with enough information to hire him, would _have_ to know he'd leave bodies behind. Hertzog just didn't care. A week before I meet you, was the anniversary of Genny's death. On that day, I took Genny's necklace back. I left my "card" in Hertzog's safe," he was holding up a card from another deck in his jacket. Cheap, compact, and easy to charge, were the reasons he'd given before as to why he always carried several packs with him.

  
"Let me guess, you want Hertzog to send that same guy after you, so you can get a rematch,"

  
"Wouldn't mind. I was kinda worried about that when I first meet you, but you can definitely hold your own." the grim smile was back.

  
True, she could go head first off of Notre Dame and all it would do was mess up her hair. "He never came, though?' that was a little puzzling. Hertzog had killed to his necklace back last time.

A thoughtful look, he had wondered the same thing before. "Maybe I did too good a job at 'lying low' and he couldn't find me." 

"Maybe he's scared," Someone rich and powerful wouldn't be afraid of a former mistress, but maybe her severely pissed-off, demon-eyed, mutant, ex-boyfriend was a different story. It all depended on how much the hired psycho had told his boss.

Half of a shrug was Remy's only response. 

"Did you love her?" Again knowing the answer before he spoke. but for some reason she wanted to her him say it.

"No," he sighed, knowing that made everything sound even worse and then leaned his head back. "Some days I envy you. There so may things I'd love to just forget."

  
She didn't respond to that. What was there to say? An obvious question still lingered, though. "Why do you carry it with you?" He seemed a sensible guy, more or less. Carrying millions of dollars in jewels in your coat pocket wasn't very sensible.

  
Nimble fingers turned the center diamond over in his hand wondering for the millionth time why he did keep the thing with him. _To remind you that you can be real stupid, dangerously stupid and when you forget, it happens again_. "Don't know what to do with it. Ain't gonna sell it. I thought about dropping off a cliff into the ocean somewhere, make some fisherman's day fifty years from now,"

  
"Or give some shark indigestion," From the day they met, she knew there were bad things in his past, that was enough for her, she didn't really need the details. So she wasn't going to hold his "confession" against him.

  
Her response surprised him and his smile was more genuine his time. Did that mean she wasn't mad or just unsure of what to say?

  
With one leg still propped up against the table, she fidgeted with the cards she had forgotten were in her hands. An awkwardness still stuck between them, coating the room. Her best, and only, friend in the world, still sat on the edge of the bed, only briefly meeting her eyes as he put the necklace back inside his coat. "We don't have to go to Paris...it was just an idea...it's not important..." she trailed off.

  
Surprise was written on his features, like that was the very last thing he expected her to say. "No, that's ok. It's really pretty there this time of year." A small mute smile and a nod. Although, she made a mental note to not mention midnight mass at Notre Dame. Something she had been thinking about, but wasn't about to say now. "Umm...My game's kinda stuck here. I drew this stupid eight...Can you help me?" He looked up and slowly made his way over to the table. Sitting down on the other side, he reached for her hands with the cards. 

  
"Don't know, let's see what you've got, Carol..." It was surprising just how much it hurt inside her chest when he didn't call her _chere._

  
Her head tilted up half an inch to meet his eyes. His strange, beautiful eyes, that had been avoiding her. "Actually,... I've been thinking...I kinda like Marie'," He really did smile this time and fraction of a weight lifted from his shoulders. She didn't run that night. Of course, a nagging voice in the back his head said, she still didn't have any place else to go. 

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, I'm back. All of my sister's wedding craziness is over, be sure to look for the video on Fox's next edition of "Wedding Disasters." (Yes, it was that bad!) But enough complaining.

More Mystique, more angst. I love that family. I realize I wrote her really sympathetic, even though she seems quite evil in the movie. I couldn't help it, I needed something dramatic to explain her trying to kill Rogue in the first movie and worrying about her in the story. Another note, a fugue state is a real, albeit very rare, psychiatric disorder. It happened to my old choir teacher after he got in a car wreck. His case was much less severe and only lasted a few hours.

  
A few reviewers brought up some good points. It's kind of ironic, because this is chapter basically same as I had be planned to write next even before people talking about getting the old "Rogue" back and how this wasn't really her. I wanted to write this chapter showing that Carol's voice and influence have been steadily decreasing. Her powers are still there, but I think the bulk of the personality is Rogue's own. The reason a person developed traumatic amnesia is the "forget" the trauma, and Carol is part of the trauma. Rogue has been trying to forget" her and push her to the back of her mind. Whether or not she stays there is the question.   
  
Being comic book geek, one of my biggest complaints about the movie ( I like both of the movies, but I still whine) has always been what a wimp Rogue is. It is a different universe and her characterization doesn't hurt the movie at all, but I've just always liked Rogue being strong. I keep telling my sister, (not the one who just got married) that the movie needs to bring in Rogue's powers, she needs to absorb somebody. Then I started thinking about that. When comic Rogue absorbed Carol Danvers, she turned into a complete headcase and she had been Mystique's lil' junior terrorist for years. What would _actually_ happen to movie Rogue if the same thing happened? She would probably be even more of a headcase, because she didn't have that original "toughness" to begin with. She had been somewhat sheltered by having Wolverine and the rest of the X-Men always looking out for her. 

I do realize that this situation would be very hard on Bobby and everyone else at the mansion and I'm not just going to gloss over that fact, when she does come back. I Briefly thought about having her and Bobby break up before she disappeared, but then realized that would be cheating, taking the easy way out. If I wanted to write about her having a break down and bring in Remy, I should deal with the repercussions of that.   


Neurotic Temptress-I love old warner brothers cartoons and how can you not love Pepe? Carol playing nice isn't necessarily suspicious, but it is unusual. I was more trying to make a point about character development, rather than hints a something nefarious, although you never know.:)  
  
ishandahalf-Is it Rogue is it not Rogue? It is one of the things I found interesting about Rogue's character. How much is really "her" and how much is from someone she absorbed. And since she's absorbed them doesn't that make them part of "her" anyway?

4Rogue- Thank you. Obviously I love the character of Gambit, so I'm thrilled you like the characterization.

Jenn()- When you mentioned Cerebro, I said to myself, "Didn't I say something about that?" So I went back and checked and realized I only had one line in chap 3. So I probably should have mentioned it more. The professor did use Cerebro, it didn't work, that's why they brought Logan in to begin with. Why cerebro didn't work will be dealt with later.  
Jenn()- Every time I get a review, I do a little happy dance (honestly, who doesn't) so of course I want to respond, I'm just so excited people are reading. I'm taking the very gradual approach to Gambit and Rogue. Sometimes I wonder if it's so gradual that it's annoying people.

Eileen B-I updated, although not really soon. I'm quite jealous of the people who can write a new chapter every week. 

kas()-Carrying on, hope you still like it.

Muccamukk()-Guess you're right. What's the fun of taking over the world if you can't brag about it. Yes, there will be more about Carol, there was a nice _big_ hint in this chapter. And she could still have been zapped by Rogue, it just can't be under the same circumstances, because, yes, movie Rogue wouldn't do that. (Unless we find out she's been evil all along, is just faking the amnesia to get away fromo the mansion, all as part of her diabolical plot of passive aggressive world domination! :p)


	6. Painting the Roses Red

An update finally. It's a long one, for me anyway. Sorry, I had a freelance job, it had to come first. 

_A little unwell... _

  
"Marie," he pounded on the bathroom door again. Still no answer, but she was in there. "Carol...Marie please, open the door. What's wrong...Marie!" he was pleading but he didn't care. It was three o'clock in the morning and there was something _wron_g. He didn't know what..the ten seconds it would take to pick the lock were too much time, so he just shoved the cheap door in. Her head didn't even turn as he burst into the room. The shower had been on, that much he knew already, it was one of the things that had woken him up. It was off now, but Carol was still sitting there in the shower stall with her elbows on her knees and her pale fingers tangled in her wet hair. She still didn't turn or look up. She just stared, her lips moving slightly like she was talking to herself. That still happened occasionally, although a lot less than it did at first.

  
"Carol?" The girl on the shower floor jumped, like the word startled her, but just as quickly went back to staring. She disentangled her fingers and wrapped her arms around her knees, as the cold from her wet hair was making her shiver. Kneeling down next to the shower he pleaded again, "Talk to me, please, what's wrong?"

  
She shook her head and with one hand, rubbed her eyes a bit, "Nothing. I was...just...a nightmare...it's nothing,"

  
He stared incredulously, "This is not_ just_ a nightmare." 

  
When he reached for her shoulder, she jerked back like she had just been burned. "Don't touch me!" a pause and a deep breath, "Sorry, I didn't mean that, " but she didn't come any closer either. Instead, she stayed huddled in the corner, rocking back and forth just a bit, and avoiding his eyes. 

  
No longer staring, but now her eyes were closed, and taking deep breaths, as if collecting her thoughts. For a what seemed a long time, she just stayed there, head in her hands and when she did talk, it was little more than a whisper, "The psycho... his name was Creed and he smelled like raw meat,"

  
For a few seconds, Remy literally stopped breathing. "Yeah, that's him." came out in a strangled whisper. "Did you know him or do you have a little bit of path in ya?" This could confirm his suspicions of her being some sort of psi. Of course, most telepaths had a hard time reading him, for what reason, he never knew, some screwy 'path thing. But she was obviously "reading" his nightmare. He had been dreaming about Genny that night, knew he would after telling Marie the story. She apparently had too, but knew a lot more details then he had actually told her. _First time for everything._

  
"No...I don't ...know...Maybe I do know him...maybe...," drawing a long shuddering breathe she tried to smile, to laugh off her apparent breakdown. "Maybe if he comes after you, I'll ask him." Finally she started getting out of the shower, but didn't make it too far when her legs collapsed from under her. He wanted to catch her but also didn't want to scare her again. So he stopped himself when he saw she wasn't going to fall all the way. One pale hand hit an empty bottle of mouthwash as she caught herself and then sat down again. 

  
The empty bottle skittered past his foot. It was just a little travel sized one that she always carried in her bag. The ragged sound of her breathe echoed through the tiny room. Her eyes stayed on floor, as he inch along the tile closer to her, moving slowly, so as not to startle her again. 

  
There was no longer any question in his mind about her "minor" telepathic abilities, except for why she didn't remember them like the rest of her powers. Probably because they seemed to cause more trouble then they were worth, and she didn't want too. Whatever the reason, he felt sick to his stomach, thinking his memories had caused her this much anguish. He didn't want to relive that night himself, let alone make anyone else go through it. And she wasn't taking it well. Looking at the floor himself now, afraid to face her eyes. "_Chere_, I'm so sorry..." he was only inches from her now and experimentally tried slowly reaching out again. She didn't flinch this time, just let out a long sigh, closed her eyes again and leaned into his shoulder.

  
"Not your fault," she kept talking without looking up, the words muffled against his chest. He felt her give a weak smile. "It wasn't your fault. If you had stayed that night, he just would have waited." Her voice got quieter, "He wanted to wait until she was alone...he wanted to hear her scream." An uneasy feeling settled over him as he wondered why she'd think that. 

  
Remy thought she had "eavesdropped" on his nightmare. She wasn't sure what had happened, but knew for certain that it was worse than that. Remy's nightmare wouldn't have known what that _freak_ was thinking, smelling...the copper penny tang of blood she could still taste, despite the mouthwash, and the laughter still in her ears and on the tip of her tongue. The water couldn't get out the feeling of blood and skin under her fingernails. just a dream...just a dream...it's over now...Squeezing her eyes shut tighter, she collapsed completely against Remy's chest and buried her face in his cotton t-shirt. He was whispering something into her hair. Probably something meant to be soothing, but she didn't really hear, just buried herself deeper into the fabric until a fog started to drape over her fractured mind. 

_Through the Looking Glass..._

"You must be Dr. Xavier," although the man speaking wasn't wearing a uniform he had the posture and perfect 30 inch stride that screamed career solider. "Colonel Nick Fury, come with me please," he said by way of introduction; he also clearly wasn't one to waste time on small talk. The professor barely had a chance to even acknowledge the other man before the Colonel spun on his heels and headed back to the same set of double doors he had just entered through. 

  
Following behind, the Professor started wondering again what exactly this was all about. The previous morning, he had received a call from a military official asking for a "consultation;" a consultation on what exactly hadn't been disclosed. He was informed to go to a military hospital and he would be filled in there. As one of the most regarded experts in the field of mutations, Xavier had "consulted " from time to time with various government entities, so the call in and of itself wasn't strange. However, sitting in the waiting room of Walter Reed Medical Center for twenty minutes, not ever knowing who he was going to see, was.

  
"You understand that what you see here, stays here, right Doctor?"

  
"Of course, Colonel. I have worked with the government numerous times-,"

  
"I know. That's why you're here. I've got a patient for you to see. The docs here haven't been able to help her much, so I decided to consult in an _expert_," The emphasis he put on the word 'expert' didn't make it seem complimentary. "The suits in Washington may not have an "official" policy on mutants in the military, but a good solider knows better than to waste valuable resources." With that the Colonel stopped abruptly and opened the door to his right.

  
Inside was what appeared to be an ordinary hospital room. Monitoring equipment supplied a steady hum and occasional beep to the ambient noise level. In the center of the room was, of course, the patient. A blond woman, who appeared to be sleeping, but her monitors showed severely depressed brain activity. Xavier assumed from Fury's earlier comments that this particular patient was a mutant.

  
"This is Major Carol Danvers, US Air Force, recently attached to SHIELD." That caught Xavier's attention. Although he had a very good memory for details, he never could quite remember what the acronym SHIELD stood for. Something about Strategic Hazard Intervention...something or other. He knew what it was, of course. A special forces division of the miliary, only they answered directly to the Pentagon rather than through any branch of service. Their primary purpose seemed to be dealing mostly with counter terrorism and espionage. 

  
The Colonel had continued speaking, "Maj. Danvers disappeared four months ago. Seven weeks ago she was found inside her apartment, in this state. The doctors think it was a psychic attack, but don't know how to reverse it."

  
Not wanting to fuel unneeded anti-mutant sentiment, Xavier replied, "It could also be brain damage. The symptoms are nearly identical. Was there any evidence of head trauma?" he made a show of looking at the monitors, but in reality was mentally scanning the patient. 

  
"I told you before, she was found in _this_ state. Not a mark on her. And for this particular soldier, serious head injury is very unlikely."

  
Charles looked up quizzically, "What is the nature of her mutation?" 

  
The Colonel looked like he didn't want to answer that one, but he finally did, " She was practically invincible, I've seen her take a bullet at close range and barely flinch. She's also extremely strong, both reasons we think it was a psi and not a physical attack, and she flew. A regular Supergirl, that one... Danvers was one of the best soldiers I had, mutant or human. I "bent" several rules about women in combat positions to get her into special ops, because she was the _best_. I want to know what did this to her and I want her back. You're the mutant expert, she's a mutant, can you fix her, Doc?" the last sentence sounded almost like a challenge, as if the Professor needed a subtle threat to his expertise in order to want to help.

  
Charles sent an experimental thought tendril toward the comatose woman, while pretending to ponder Fury's question. Her mind did appear blank, but not empty. If the thoughts and memories were still there, he might be able to help Major Danvers access them again. "It's possible, but I can't be sure at the moment. I'm sure I don't need to explain to you that psychic attacks can be a varying in nature as physically ones. I'll need to see all of her charts, CAT and PET scans, MRI's, all of the previous tests and review them before I give a more definitive answer."

_Coming Home..._

"I _hate_ flying commercial," Marie was trying to roll the kinks out of her shoulders as she and Remy stepped onto the airport escalator going down. They had just landed in Quebec and the flight was late. Delayed over _two hours_, pushing back the arrival time from 10:00 pm to 12:00 am.. And forcing her to stay even _longer_ in tiny airlplane seats that were clearly designed for ten year olds. No normal sized person could ever be comfortable in them, let alone someone who more than anything longed to be flying _outside_ the stupid plane.

  
Remy just looked over and adjusted the duffel bag on his shoulder, "So, I've heard," over and over and over again.

  
Standing one step in front of Remy, Marie was splitting her attention between being annoyed with him for making her spend fourteen hours on a plane across the Atlantic and deciphering the airport signs. _He's probably loving the fact that everything here's written in French._ Her conversational French was getting pretty good after hanging around a Cajun for so long. A Cajun who had tendency to forget that being _Cajun_ meant he was from _America_, not _France_ and that English was actually his first language. Problem was, that was speaking French, not reading it. And she'd be danged if she was going to ask for help translating. Instead she turned around and asked pointedly, "Tell me why couldn't I fly us here? I flew us over the Ural mountains,"

  
"Yes, you did, and you dropped me in the snow,"

  
Casually flicking her hair back, "You were _so_ asking for it,"

  
"Well, yes," he really had been, "but it was still rude." Thinking he was lucky she picked him back up again, he reached out started massaging her shoulders a bit as the stairs drifted downward.

  
"mmm..." her eyes closed and head lolled back, "mm..don't think that gets you off the hook, LeBeau. I could have gotten us here much faster and without the bad movie."

  
"But your way would have been much _colder_ and wouldn't have come with free peanuts," that sounded logical enough. Rolling her head back and forth, _stupid plane seats_, she stretched her arms out as far as they would go. Since the cold didn't bother her, she was just wearing a white tee shirt and a short leather jacket. Her Christmas present. The green coat was more than ready to be retired. Having taken the brunt of the crash landing back in Madirpoor, its days had been numbered from the start. Only the smallest inkling of sentimentality made her keep it as long as she had. As her arms stretched back, the jacket fell open and the fabric of her shirt pulled tight across-

  
"What are you looking at?" Mid-stretch she had opened her eyes to see Remy looking down. She couldn't let that pass by.

  
Quickly shifting his gaze a fraction of an inch he answered in what he hoped was a nonchalant manor, "The escalator," it sounded lame even as he said it, but he had to go with it for now."That's some fine workmanship," he kept his eyes rooted to the metal step at his feet in rapt fascination. 

  
"The escalator? Really? Oh, in that case I think there's a really nice section of the escalator a couple of steps down. That's some _really_ fine workmanship," she nodded her head to where a blond woman stood. A woman who must also be a mutant if she thought she would last five minutes in the Canadian winter with the halter top she was wearing.

  
There was laughter in Marie's voice, so chances were good he wouldn't end up in the Atlantic, but no sense in digging the hole any deeper, "Nah, those steps aren't nearly the same quality. They look very cheap," 

  
Failing to suppress a laugh, "Well, I'm glad you appreciate quality." 

  
She really should torment him further, he was cute when he tried to play innocent, not that she would ever tell him that. She couldn't really, it would mess everything up. That's why she didn't kiss him in Prague. Sure he was cute, well, he was gorgeous, and funny and sweet and... ...but...There were too many screwed up things already going on and this had the potential of being the worst. A silent inward sigh and instead of teasing him some more, she went back to looking at signs. 

  
Before Remy had flown out of Canada for Asia, he had left his bike in long term parking here at the airport. His real bike. His "borrowed" bike he had left back in Russia, before the trip across the Urals. _If the boy didn't want to get wet, he shoulda watched his mouth._ With mass transit and the occasional other "borrowed" vehicle, they made their way across Europe. Until Monaco, where they caught a Delta back to North America. A stray thought popped in her mind that it would be terribly funny if someone else had "borrowed" his bike from the parking lot.

  
At the base of the escalator, she paused a bit to get her bearings. The airport wasn't crowded, so she could do this without fear of reprisal from hurried travelers. The Christmas-New Year's holiday rush had ended, so no one needed to be catching a plane this late. Christmas in Paris had been gorgeous and she even managed to drag him to a Christmas Eve midnight mass at a gothic cathedral. Not Notre dame, but another suitably impressive one. There had been just a brushing of snow covering the city and the lights viewed from the Sienne were incredible. Could have been her imagination, but there was a moment when she thought he going to try to kiss her again. He didn't, but if he had, she didn't think she could have turned away that time. _At least he was still being sensible, even though I was turning to romantic mush._

  
_Stop thinking about that_, she lectured herself. Back to looking for signs. Muttering to herself, "_Reclamation de.._, that's baggage claim," which they didn't need. She had adopted his habit of traveling light. Carrying only duffel bag with a few changes of clothes and small essentials. It did make going through security easier, even if it severely limited wardrobe choices.

  
Still looking up, the corner of her vision registered someone stopping beside her. The sound of a bag dropping to the floor next to her feet was next and she just _knew_ Remy was standing there waiting for her to ask for help in unlocking the secrets of French grammar. She concentrated on sending evil thoughts in his direction and swore she heard him laugh under his breath. There was familiar weight landing just above her shoulders and she felt his hand rubbing her neck again. It felt heavenly, but was starting to get _very_ distracting. To her dismay, she was finding that more and more, she liked being distracted. Hitching her bag a little higher on her shoulder, she stepped off to the right. "This way," she called over her shoulder to the very distracting person behind her.

  
He had the decency to be little disappointed that his help wasn't needed. "Dang, ya just too smart for me, _chere_."

  
"I know," she sang lightly back. 

_Curiouser and Curiouser..._

"A SHIELD agent? So the government's involved?" this was the first lead they had on Rogue's disappearance for months, but Scott had to admit it was completely unexpected.

  
"It would seem so. Jean and Hank are looking at the scans now to confirm my theory, but I've studied Rogue's power long enough to know the brainwave patterns left behind after she's used them."

  
"It doesn't make any sense though. What would the government want with Rogue?" Given the current political climate, the possbility of government involvement had been discussed, but also pretty much dismissed. They just had no motive for taking Marie and only Marie.

  
Even though it had only been four months, it seemed like she had been gone for much longer...Many of the students had already accepted the "fact" that she was dead. They knew the only way someone didn't register on Cerebro was if they were unconscious or dead. Magneto was the only person who had ever been capable of eluding the mutant finding machine and if she was with him...well, the Master of Magnetism had already tried to kill her once. Rahne, the tracker who had first found Rogue's disappearing trail, had come to him a week go saying that Marie deserved " a proper Christian burial," even though there was no body. If he thought it would help the children...no, students, (Jean always told him it sounded condescending when he called them 'children.' They were just so little...) he might of considered it. The "students" hadn't been told of this new development yet. Cyclops wasn't sure if they should know until there was more to go on, but the Institute was a tough place to keep a secret..

  
"No way the kid would have gone after this woman unless she's was attacked. You're not seriously thinking Rogue did this on purpose?" The quiet, stuffy atmosphere of the study seemed completely at odds with Wolverine's mood. They shouldn't be standing here blabbing, they should be going after this SHIELD person and finding out what happened to Rogue..

  
Idly Scott wondered if Wolverine intentionally misunderstood almost everything he said just to be contrary or if he was just bad at jumping to conclusions. "No, Logan, I'm not saying that. I can't even think how Marie would even know a SHIELD agent, let alone plan a way to take one down. I'm saying I can't think of any reason why SHIELD would even know about Rogue, let alone want to go after her."

  
Logan wondered that too, the kid was an awful small target for the big guns, but said, "Maybe it's a new government program; they're thinking about rounding up mutants, so they're going after a few of the smaller ones first to test out their program, weapons, or whatever, and see how hard it will be. The authorities know about that boy in Mississippi, maybe they found her from there. Or, most people know the Prof.'s into mutant research, so they camp someone outside of his place and hope to get lucky." 

  
Cyclops thought about that, "And then go to the Professor for help when something goes wrong?" that seemed counter productive for a covert operation.

  
"Maybe they planned on the Prof. being in the dark, or maybe this Fury guy doesn't know what's going on. Charlie said he didn't have anything personal against mutants, just sees them as another resource.' Are you sure he was telling the truth?"

  
"He seemed sincere from what I tell. I couldn't get a good reading from him though, it appears he had mental shielding." Everyone turned and stared at that revelation.

  
"He's a mutant?"

  
"I don't think so. The shielding seemed to be the kind a telepath would place in another mind. Much like what the students here have. Purely defensively, to keep hostile psis out. Anyone persistent and strong enough could get through, but not without the person knowing. It appears that not only does Col. Fury work with mutants, he's prepared to fight them, too."

  
_This just keeps getting better and better_. Scott thought to himself. 

  
Xavier continued with his fingered steepled in front of him. "Only Major Danvers knows what really happened. I'm going to proceed with her treatment. For security reasons, Col. Fury insisted that she remain at Walter Reed. I've tried using Cerebro to if see I can continue with her treatment from here, but I can't get a good enough lock on her mind to attempt something so delicate."

  
"Does she have the same shielding Fury does?"

  
"Mostly likely, she could also be naturally resistant to telepathy. I _can_ locate her using Cerebro, but if I hadn't known her position to begin with, I quite likely could have missed her."

  
Logan inhaled sharply as he realized the implication of Xavier's statement. "Could that be why you can't find Rogue?" he pratcially demanded. "She absorbed this Danver woman's shields or resistance or whatever, so she not showing up on your gizmo?" Then, almost to himself, "That means she'd not dead." the last sentence sounded cautiously hopefully.

  
Scott was mildly surprised. Outwardly, Logan adamantly refused to believe anything had happened to Marie. It was understandable. Logan had promised Marie that he would protect her, but when she was in danger, there was nothing he could do to help her. He kept insisting that any day now he would find the clue that would bring her home. Inwardly, it appeared, he had lost hope, too.

  
"Not being able to work efficiently with Cerebro, will make things more difficult. But I still believe I should be able recover most of the lost memories," then he sighed. "It will just take more time," time they may or may not have.

  
Sometime during the Professor's lecture Jean and Hank had entered the study. Evidently done studying the scans. Wolverine didn't know Hank all that well. Seemed nice enough. He was a big guy, probably could have played pro football if it wasn't for the fact that he was entirely covered in blue fur and resembled a large gorilla. When the search for Marie was starting up, every available telepath was needed, so Jeannie didn't have time to play doctor to the rest of the school. Xavier had called in one of his old students, Henry McCoy, who had been doing private research, to help out.

  
"If I were a gambling man, which I'm not really, but that hardly matters, I would definitely "bet the farm", so to speak, on this being the work of our wayward mutant."

  
Nice enough guy, but talked _way_ too much.

  
"I have to agree," Jean looked tired and a bit like she wasn't sure if this was good news or not. "Rogue was always very careful, but there were accidents from time to time. I kept records from all the people here that's happened to. The brain activity in these charts match those exactly. It's her signature alright." There was a click of her heels against the floor as she crossed the room to hand the files back to Xavier. Dr. McCoy on the other hand perched himself on the arm of a chair. That was another thing about him, talked too much and never sat down. Always climbing or hanging from something.

  
"Jeannie, if this Danvers is still in a coma, that would mean Rogue would still have her shielding, right?"

  
In his new found zeal, Logan failed to remember Jean hadn't been in the room for the mental shields conversation. Looking up, confused, but somewhat following his statement, "I guess, but we have no idea what kind of long term effects Marie's powers have-,"

  
"Well, we do now! You've got the charts right there"! Frustration was showing in Wolverine's voice. They were so close to something important he could feel it, but they were _still_ sitting here bogged down in technically mumbo jumbo. "She puts em in a coma for a really long time. Then she probably runs off confused-," he stopped in a sudden flash on insight, " Professor, try looking for Danvers everywhere _but_ Maryland. If Rogue thinks-;"

  
"I already have." Rogue took the personality of people she absorbed, it was an obvious conclusion that, in a transfer so complete, Rogue's mental patterns might "look" like Danvers. "I found nothing," Xavier could see the Canadian deflate visibly. "I will keep looking, but our best chance is still in Major Danvers memories. 

  
"Are there really any lost memories to find? Rogue took em all." After having his hope rise only to be dashed again, Wolverine was approaching boiling point. 

  
"We not entirely certain that Rogue's power's function that way. But there are memories left, deep in the subconscious and I will find them." he said with a certainty he didn't entirely feel, but Charles Xavier was nothing if not optimist.

  
"Ahem..." was the sound of Dr. McCoy clearing his throat in an attempt to get the room's, especially Wolverine's, attention. "The mere presence of a government agent does suggest a government involvement, however incidental such involvement may actually be. Perhaps we would be best served if, while the Professor continues with his investigation, we were to look into current SHIELD operations, Major Danver's unit in particular and Colonel Fury's present and past efforts. Discreetly, of course, if the military is directly involved, alerting them could potentially put Rogue in more imminent danger." There was a general consensus of unspoken agreement throughout the Professor's office. Scott remembered one of the things he liked best about Hank, his knack for playing peacemaker.

  
Logan had to grudgingly admit the logic, but knew 'discreet' would go right out the window if he found anything out that looked remotely incriminating. Even though it was the furry, blue doctor who had spoken, Wolverine directed his response to Xavier. "And what if you find out I'm right? That Fury and Danvers were behind this whole set up?" Wolverine looked like he was ready to act on that assumption right now. This was the first real lead and the closest thing he had found to a head to bash. Unfortunately the head was empty.

  
Very evenly the professor replied, "Then you will be right and Danvers will certainly know what happened to Rogue. No matter what, she is the last person who we know of that was in contact with Rogue. The date of both of their disappearances match and key to discovering what happened could be inside her mind."

  
"What's left of it," grumbled Logan under his breath, not sounding hopefully.

_Painting the roses red..._

  
"Ahh...Motel sweet Motel," There was something quite amazing about how all motel rooms managed to look exactly alike. Even in different countries. An interior designer's worst nightmare, hundreds and thousands of identical rooms. All with same tacky paintings, or prints of the same tacky paintings. Even if this was just another motel, she was excited. They were only a few hours from New York state and the good ol' US of A. Europe was great, but it didn't have peanut butter and the roads, and the cars, were all way too small.

  
Remy walked in behind her, as she tossed her duffle bag onto the nearest bed. He sat down next to it. Even the bed spreads looked to same. Well, not entirely, the ones in the last motel were more reddish. These ones looked like the ones in Germany. 

  
Numerous annoying little kinks still plagued her shoulders and she thought darkly about the personal space in commercial aircraft. Her Cajun companion was now leaning back on his elbows, looking like he was feeling the long plane ride, too. Small wonder, she thought, the seats were cramped for her and he was a good six inches taller. However, he better not complain, being as it was all his dumb idea. The flaps of her jacket fell open again as she stretched her arms wide. In her peripheral vison she saw Remy immediately jerk his head the opposite direction and whistle. A preemptive attempt to avoid the "unpleasantness" of the airport. He _really_ was adorable when he tried to play innocent. 

  
An evil little thought popped into her head and she grinned maniacally. Casually walking in his direction, she made a great show of rubbing her neck and then she stretched again directly in front of him. "Mmmm....it feels nice to finally be out of that plane and away from all those people," She was mildly attempting to sound sultry, but was unsure of how well she was succeeding. He was looking everywhere in the room except at her and eventually his eyes fixed to a lamp on the night stand. 

  
"Yeah, nice to relax," not sounding very relaxed and his glaze unwavering.

  
"Whatcha looking at?" she purred. Her hands were clasped behind her back, pushing her chest out a little more as she moved in even closer. She really shouldn't start this again, but couldn't help herself. Besides, she was sick of playing cautious.

  
"The lamp," he responded without missing a heartbeat. Drat, he was too prepared this time.

  
"Fine quality workmanship?"

  
"Definitely. It's real authentic...ceramic," He was suppressing a grin. Although somewhat concerned for his personally safety, he was enjoying her game. The black and red eyes remained on the "quality" lamp that was identical to every other motel lamp on the planet.

  
Leaning over, resting her hands on his knees, she looked in the same direction, "Hmm...it's nice," she was practically on top of him now, fight back giggles at the look on his face.

  
Fun was fun, but this was starting to get tortuous. "You're cruel, _chere_,"

  
"_Moi_? Cruel? Whatever do you mean?" some batted eyelashes for added effect. "I thought you liked pretty girls "talking" to you?"

  
A low chuckle. He did turn his head, but instead of looking at the lamp he looked straight up at the ceiling instead. The Atlantic was still too close to be taking any chances. "I don't even remember the last time I "talked" to any girl-"

  
"Oh, _please_. I find that hard to believe," With the way he constantly flirted with _everyone_...she wasn't jealous...it was funny most of the time...

  
"You would know, you're with me constantly...you ever seen me with anybody else?"

  
Her lip quirked, irritated at his logic trap, "Hmm...well, no, but ya are pretty sneaky..."

  
He laughed again still looking at the ceiling, "You doubt my love for you?" Expecting her to knock him over, he actually looked down in surprise when she did nothing.

  
Inwardly, she was berating herself for ignoring all of her logic, all of her reasons to be sensible. He had given her the perfect escape to end this game. Half a frown graced her mouth and she said, softer than before, " I really do hate it when you say stuff like that." She almost regretted the words as soon as she said them, almost. Tired of logic and being sensible, which was something she wasn't anyway. Roaming through two continents with someone who started as a perfect stranger was very _un-sensible_, and that hadn't phased her.

  
Somewhat lost, "Oh...sorry." Her eyes were a little downcast, but she hadn't moved from her position.

  
"I know you're just teasing, cuz ya like to bug me," She did shove him this time, but it was just a light tap against his shoulder. They did have fun together, she wasn't tired of their games, she just wanted them to end differently. And now that she was here, there was a fear that he wasn't seriously interested anymore.

  
"Remember, I think you're beautiful when you're irritated?" Again waiting for her to roll her eyes, smack him or something...

  
A small smile, "What about the rest of the time?"

  
Was this a set up? His mind tried to warn him of how cold the ocean would be this time of year, but the rest of him wasn't listening. "You're always beautiful, _cherie_," he keep his easy smile in place 

  
"Betcha say that to all the girls," she looked away a fraction, but tried to sound playful as she flipped her hair over one shoulder and then her hand rested back on his knee again. "You're just horrible flirt, you're never serious," she sounded almost wistfully, or was he imagining?

  
"You should be able to tell by now when I am." That was true. Honestly, she knew him better than probably anyone else in the world, despite his jokes and his covering up. Looking at her intently, he wanted to see just how much her mood had changed.

  
"So are you?"

  
One hand went up to softly touch the side of her face. "What do think?" So close. Her face was hovering mere inches from his.

  
"That's not answering my question," her voice had gotten even softer. It was almost a whisper now. For once, words failed him completely. The look in her eyes was the one she always hid from him. But not now, he lost himself completely in it. Almost without thinking, he closed the gap between them, brushing lightly against her lips. He lingered there for a heartbeat, waiting for her reaction. Her mouth moved against his and she brought her hands to his face, gripping tightly as if she afraid to let go. The hand still on her face, he lost in her hair as he responded to her, tightening their embrace. Time slowed considerable as they stayed there locked together. Without breaking contact, his arms encircled her waist and brought her into his lap. From there they moved even closer together, although it would never be close enough.

  
She had already known that if he tried to kiss again, she wouldn't be able to turn away, but she never fully realized just how much she wanted that to happen. A dam had burst and she could no longer hold back feelings she never comprehended the full extent of. The leather of her gloves caught on the stubble that always adorned his face. Belatedly realizing that she was still wearing her gloves, she shed them quickly, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin. That small motion, though, moved her slightly away. To which Remy responded by pulling her in even closer than before, kissing her deeper. 

  
As they sank further together, he heard her sigh and her kisses began to lighten. She pushed back a little, softly but firmly, her eyes still closed. Fighting the urge to pull her back to him, he instead held her loosely with one hand and the other he softly traced the outline of her face. Admittedly, things were moving a little fast, she needed a some breathing room, that was all.

  
"Sorry," that was probably the last thing her expected her to say. Was she apologizing for kissing him or for pulling away?

  
"I'm not. I've been wanting to hold you like his for a long time, _cherie_," fingers continued to stroke her cheek. "I _am_ sorry if I was rushing you."

  
A short, soft laugh, "How many months has it been? I doubt most people would consider this fast." Her expression was taking on a distressed look, yet her face turned into his hand, relishing his touch. 

  
Very gently, "Doesn't matter. I'd wait forever for you," hoping, but not knowing for sure if this was reassuring to her. 

  
There was quiet. "This isn't a good idea," her voice was so soft he could barely hear it.. May have been talking to herself. "We talked about this."

  
"You talked about it. I didn't push." he was quiet, too. Still not wanting to push, but utterly unwilling to give her up so soon. "_Cherie_, please..." he grasped at her hand as she slid away and walked a few steps toward the window. Arms wrapped around herself, she looked down, not knowing what to say. _Everything had been so perfect..._

  
The distance between them was too far. In a few slow steps, he covered it and came to stand behind her, his hands lightly floating on her shoulders. "_Marie_..." Should he tell he that he loved her when she seemed to be afraid of him? If anything, he should be afraid. He had never felt like this before in his life and his _amor_ was very close to rejecting him. Should he start smaller and just say how much he deeply cared for her? She spoke before he had the chance to decide. 

  
"Something's wrong," feeling the tear of her heart ripping apart as she said it.

  
"What? Whatever it is I'll make it right," was his pleaded whisper. 

  
"I... don't know...It's just...when I kiss you...it's wonderful, but something feels _wrong_. Like it shouldn't be happening...Maybe...there was someone, before..." 

  
"Stop it, Marie. This can't be about your past, you don't want your past, all it does is give you nightmares." There was no response, but she slowly started to turn around. As strange as it was, she had no desire to think about her existence before Madripoor, could that really be what was stopping her?

  
There was no moonlight inside, but he could have swore it shone in her eyes. Everything about her was breathtaking. But the look of uncertainty, of sadness marred his perfect vision of her. "I know, I know..." she leaned her head against his chest and he released a slow breath,.

  
Not lifting her eyes, she stared at the hand resting on his shirt. Her gloves were still on the bed, and she felt nonsensically vunerable without them. 

  
"This changes everything...Maybe... I just need a little time to think." finally looking up again. Those beautiful brown eyes were close to tears and then they looked away again. 

"It doesn't have to change things. We can living like we were before, we're already together all the time, except now maybe I can look at you and not pretend that I wasn't," He waited for her smile and lifted her chin with one finger. "What I really want most, is just to _be_ with you. To hold your hand when we go out," knowing that sounded childish, but not caring, "To kiss you good night. Everything could be the same, only better. I want to stop pretending we don't feel this way. I _know_ you feel this, too." he knew she did, he could feel it in her kiss.

He was right, every word he said was right. So why didn't the nagging, _wrong_ feeling go away? Desparately hoping he wouldn't think she was rejecting him, she looked up, "I do...I just...I think I still need some time to think. Maybe I'll just go for a walk, get a little air." The space between them increased, as she backed toward the door.

  
"_Chere_, don't go," he couldn't lose her like this.

  
A weak smile, "It'll only be a few minutes. I need to think and well, I just can't think straight around you," she tried to joke.

  
There was the door and with it, a looming dread that she would disappear out it and out of his life forever. "If you don't come back, I'll just have to assume something happened, and come looking for you..."

  
Another smile and she backtracked a few feet, "I'm coming back, I promise," with that she kissed him one last time, a brief gentle kiss neither of them wanted to end. And then she was gone. 

It actually wasn't as cold as it could be in Canada in January. Plenty of snow lined the rooftops and gathered in huge, dirty piles against the edge of the sidewalk, but the night was clear and there was very little breeze. The leather jacket was more than enough to keep her comfortable. The night air did clear up her head a bit. Of course, that was also the result of being away from Remy and the impossible, wonderful feelings that clouded her judgement when he was near... What was it exactly that had spurred her need to "think?" Why couldn't she have stayed lost in their moment together? _What if this...us, ends up bad? What would we do then? I can't lose him too. He's all I have. _

  
That reasoning had been her biggest stumbling block since she realized Remy was interested in more than just flirting with her. For the first few weeks she couldn't take him seriously at all. It was fun to mess around, battle back and forth with their words But as she got to know him, she _could_ tell when he was serious. Then she started worrying about everything little thing that could go wrong and convinced herself it was better to keep their relationship platonic. Although she hadn't been at first, she was willing to risk that now. But that nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach wouldn't go away. There was nothing wrong, why did something feel _wrong_?  


_I'm thinking too much about this, _was the final conclusion. The unexplained nagging feeling was probably a byproduct of her screwed up mind, like the occasionally voices. For more than the first time, she considered what any normal person would have done, having woken up in a foreign country with no memory. _Should have gone to a hospital, my mess of a head would be fixed by now_. _Or it might not be, and I'd still be there._ Her whole body was seized with an enormous chill thinking about that. A tiny room, the smell of blood and antiseptic, getting stuck by needles... Shaking her head to think about something else. Doctors and hospitals didn't sound good to her then and they still didn't now. She rubbed her arms as if she was cold.

  
Thinking too much again..._I wonder what Remy's doing right now? Probably pacing, or fidgeting this his cards. Bet he's real nervous about what I'm gonna say when I get back._ As if he couldn't tell...He had barely kissed her and she had been all over him in half a second flat. What other decision could she possibly come, too? The "wrong" feeling was fading very far back into her head, if it showed up again, she'd ignore it. It would fade, like all her minds' other little tricks did. The look on his face when she came back, would be priceless. She wouldn't even say anything, just run straight into his arms. It felt warmer now, thinking about how happy he'd be to see her again. The crunch of frost on the ground lightened as she slowed her pace, intending to head back. Feeling giddy and slightly silly, she smiled broadly to no one.

  
"Hello," Marie jumped and spun around at the unexpected sound and felt stupid for being so startled. There was an elderly woman standing in sidewalk. In the middle of the path she just come from. _Sneaky little old lady trying to give me a heart attack... _Should probably find out if the woman was lost or needed any help. A bit of the nagging feeling returned, but warped quickly into _deva ju_. 

  
"A little chilly for a stroll, isn't Marie?" the strange woman said with warm concern.

  
Marie's throat closed and breath caught. For a few seconds, she didn't breathe, she stared. The stranger stood there, looking back at her gently and smiling. She was rather tall with silver hair pulled back into a loose bun. One arm held an old book the other rested on a cane, but she was standing very straight in spite of it. The dark glasses were her reason for the cane, she clearly didn't see well... The obvious question, "do I know you?" completely died before it fully formed; Marie knew the answer already anyway.

  
In the barest, most shocked whisper, "Grandma Irene?"

  
"Grandma" smiled, a genuine, warm smile despite the cold, "You remember. That's wonderful."

  
"Yeah, sort of." was all Marie managed to response. Had she traveled half way around the world, only to end up in her grandmother's backyard? No that couldn't be...

_~"Grandma look, I found a catepillar! It's fuzzy, like a kitty." Little legs scampered over to show her find. Not really "show", Grandma couldn't see, but she could feel it. ~_  
  
"Marie? Are you alright, dear?" 

  
The voice shook her out of her reverie. "Yeah, I'm fine. I've just been a little..." crazy?, "...I haven't been feeling quite..."

  
"I know, " the woman replied in the most understanding, grandmotherly-sort of way. She did? How? 

  
"That's why I had to find you." the smile was still in place, reassuring. Marie wanted to be reassured, she remembered this woman. Really remembered, but her bothersome mind wouldn't be reassured. It nagged and it tickled..._but I remember her_...remembered playing in the yard, wondering why Mommy didn't come out and play with them..._Mommy_? Desperately she tried to bring images of her mother, but they didn't come, she remembered something else instead...

  
"You're dead," Her voice was abandoning her again as the younger woman backed away. Almost tripping over her feet in the process.

  
"Grandma" didn't seemed phased at all, "Yes," a heavy sigh, "Time comes for us all eventually."

  
"So who are you?" If this was a hallucination, it was a good one.

  
"I am- I was- a friend of Irene's. I came to see you, and I didn't want to frighten you."

  
"So you pretended to be my dead Grandmother?" that came out a little more shrieky more she wanted. "How did you even..."

  
"Why, I'm a mutant like you, of course," as if that was the obvious conclusion any half-wit could reach. Which it was, but Marie was still quite annoyed with how this strange woman-if she was a woman- smiled and talked to her as if she was a small child. _If she pats my head, I'm not going to be responsible for my actions..._she thought darkly.

  
In demonstration of the obviousness of her statement, "Irene" slowly began to melt. Flowing like candle wax, wrinkles eased into unlined, slightly darker skin. Silver hair shaded into black, and grew longer. The cane melted up, vanishing to who knows where, but the book in the crook of her left arm remained. The _deva ju_ feeling didn't disappear completely with this new face. It wasn't familiar like grandma Irene's but there was something... The new person took a few steps forward, "See?"

  
Marie didn't say anything, just threw one of her more impressive glares, one that Remy would have the good sense to be scared of, but, of course, 'grandma' was utterly nonplused. "So, I'll say it again, who are you? What to you want? Why-How did you-,"

  
The new voice from this new face was still soft and concerned. "I can explain everything. My name is Raven. I was a very good friend of Irene's," if Marie noticed the way Raven stumbled over the word 'friend,' she didn't show it. Mystique had to tread carefully. This was the face she had always wore outside when they had lived in that horrible little house. So far, Marie hadn't had much of a reaction to it, but that was to be expected. She hadn't seen this face since she- left. "She wanted me to find you-,"

  
"She's dead," trying to keep up a defensive wall, she had every right to be suspicious of this person. Inexplicably, she wanted to trust her though. 

  
"I know...Before she died, she "saw" something that would happen. Did you know about her powers?"

  
Several strands of white hair fell over her eyes, as she slowly shook her head. She was listening raptly, even though there was no reason to trust what 'Raven' was saying.

  
"She could see the future. This book was one of her diaries. We really need to talk-," a sound cut her off. Marie jerked her head in its direction. It had been a ripping and hard thud, like a body hitting concrete, coming from about thrity yards away and up. The rooftops. Two to three story building lined this street. She broke into a jog heading one building behind Raven. The were dark shapes on top of it and the noise of a scuffle continued. Suddenly, the flare of a small pink explosion lit against the clear, dark night. _No! Those idiots! _

  
"REMY!" she was in the air before Raven could stop her, a blur racing toward the roof. A quarter of a second after her feet left the ground, both dark shapes sailed off the top of the building. Easily discerning her almost boyfriend, she caught him around the waist as the other much larger figured thudded against the sidewalk.  
"What are you doing here?" She asked as they floated toward the ground.

  
In between heavy breathes, "Following you," was his unapologetic reply. It wasn't that he didn't believe her when she promised she'd return, he just wanted to see her, try and figure out what she might be thinking. It beat stewing in the motel room and wondering. He had headed out only a few minutes after she had left, but ran into an 'old friend' along the way. At first he assumed, Creed had finally come after him, but then he spied Marie talking with some strange woman on the ground below. That's when things really got ugly. "Guess I must have set off the ambush early. Careful, there might more of em. " His gaze had found Raven below and he palmed three new cards, preparing to throw again.

  
His _amour_ nodded as she lightly dropped him to the ground and stayed hovering. A quick look around showed the dark gray blob on the sidewalk moving again, the fall clearly not hurting him.

  
Raven hurried over to where the two were standing. "Marie, listen to me. This wasn't-,"

  
"Stay right there, lady!" Remy demon eyes seemed to glow slightly and his cards glowed more fiercely. He didn't have proof that this woman was connected to Creed, but he didn't believe in conicidences. Marie turned her attention back to the guy on the sidewalk, he was up now, shaking off concrete dust and growling under his breath as he advanced. The night breeze swept from behind him carrying an odor of raw meat.

  
"Stop!" Raven screeched, not sounding at all happy. But Marie didn't hear that and didn't notice the freak's actual compliance to Raven's order. Almost unthinkingly she flew at him and swung. Her punch was sloppy and she left herself wide open to a counter, but her fist managed to connect with Creed's head. It was Creed. she knew it was him and she wasn't about to let him get Remy. With a solid crack, he flew all the way across the street, almost through the wall of a store on the other side. There was much more damage as he hit this time, but she started over there to make sure he wasn't getting up. After going no more than two feet, her head jerked back. Felt like she had clothelined on something. Falling back, she felt something warm and clammy around her neck, choking off the air.. Remy still had Raven at bay, but spun around when he heard Marie scream.

  
She could breath, just not well. She was gasping, like she had been underwater too long. The world outside her eyes blurred and twisted. Pulling in one huge breathe, she inhaled air and what felt like fire. A molten metal seemed to flow in with the air, burning her lungs and seeping into the rest of her body. Burning away everything it touched. Pain danced as the fire grew. Spreading out to her skin which pricked and tingled, turning into ashes and embers, with red hot flares shooting back and forth over her. And as suddenly as the burning had started, it stopped. A wave washed over her, quelling the fires and filling her burnt out body. 

  
_Sabretooth really is a bloody idiot. We were supposed to be watching the girl and keeping that Gambit person away when Mystique wanted to talk to her. If there needed to be violence, it should be very far away, so the girl didn't see. But Victor had try to tear the boy apart right in front her . Wonderful. Mystique looked like she was going to stop it and settle things down, but the little Xavier brat was out for blood. This debacle had worked her up into a right temper. Better slow her down a bit, so the boss could say what she wants to say and then we can all go home. Well, I can go home, the rest of the lot of them could go wherever. It's too cold here._

_  
The girl's new and improved powers will make her a lot harder to fight. How'd she manage to trade the old one in for a better one? Several better ones. If I vansihed off the face of the earth for a few months, could I trade in the jumping for flying? That would be fun. Flying not the vanishing. Well, best be trying to do something. Sneak attack, nothing big, just enough to stop her for a couple seconds so Mystique can get a word in edgewise. Grab her around the throat, knock the wind out of her, that should do it. She got a lot of skin showing there, though. Wait, new powers, I don't have to worry about that anymore..._

  
Her hands went to her face as she doubled over. The wave, it was wonderful and cooling but it was too much; she was drowning in it. She fought back against the rush of water. Swirling and going under in the riptide, choking on rushing water and a strange voice.

  
At her scream, Remy spun around and went to Marie. Some green freak had come out of nowhere and grabbed her around the throat with an elongated tongue, of all things. But within a second, the guy had gone pale and collapsed, releasing her. But _chere_, was still on the ground holding her head.

  
"Maire," a whisper floated from behind him. That woman started toward the fallen girl and Remy finally let go of the cards he had been threatening her with. She was only blasted back a few feet, and that charge wouldn't be enough to keep her down for long. Curiously, she had actually sounded concerned.

  
"Are you alright?" he reached down to help Marie to her feet, but she jerked back. She looked up and confusion filled her... yellow eyes. Her eyes had taken on a strange yellow cast and her skin was a sickly, pale green. Froggy boy must have done something to her. Crouching down beside her, "Marie? How are you feeling? Can you move, because we have to get out of here." He reached for her hand again and this time she jerked back so violently, the pavement cracked when she landed again "DON'T TOUCH ME!" she shrieked and like a backwards falling star, shot straight up into the night sky.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Longer chapter this time. Some actual plot, mushiness and an attempt at an action scene (those are harder to write than they look!.) Tell me if improvements need to be made. I took some liberties with describing how Rogue's powers worked, but in the movies, it always looks like it hurts. I know in the movie never showed Rogue absorbing Sabretooth. I'm pretending it happened off screen. Maybe he bumped into her while she was being held by Magneto or possibly she tried to escape. Her powers don't hurt him too much because of his healing factor, so it wouldn't have effected him for the rest of the show. I just got that scene into my brain and it wouldn't go away. And did anyone els think that "Scream for me" line was _way_ creepy. Final note, in my little universe, Logan doesn't know Carol and she's just an ordinary mutant, no funny Kree DNA stuff.

Just as I finished writing this chapter,Ii thought to myself, "Are the signs in Quebec airports really all in French?" I know people speak French there, but since Canada has two official languages, maybe the signs would be written in both. Tell me if I'm wrong, maybe I'll go back and try to fix that scene.  
  
  
ishandahalf- Rogue can make Gambit fall for her anytime, without even trying, but she falling pretty hard herself now. I didn't really mean to rant, too much. I do like the movies (I liked X2 better) I just like Rogue being able to kick butt and the movie still needs Gambit! I know his name was on the computer screen, but that doesn't count, dang it! If it did then Omega Red and Franklin Richards were technically in the movie.

Raquelle-I do want to show how the X-Men are dealing with all of this, but I get sidetracked with the Rouge and Remy. Updates from the mansion will be popping up from time to time though. I managed to work in a couple here.. 

Muccamukk()-Why do you think they came back to the States? If you want to take over the world, where better to start than Washington DC? Muhahaha. That really could be a fun story to write. You like comics and the movie angle? That's good, I was worried about that part. There has been so much back history in the comics, it's hard to simplify it to work in the movie setting. Mystique will talk about Irene more later on.  
Muccamukk()-I always appreciate the review count going up. :) I did mention Jean at the beginning, though she didn't do much, but she's stuck in the story now. I started this story before X2 came out, thinking that once it did, I could probably still work this story around what happened. Never realizing they were gonna kill Jean off. Should have figured though, Phoenix being such a big, classic X-men story. I guess this is an AU story now. Poor Logan is frantic, he promised Rogue he'd protect her, but there's nothing he can do.

healthnut()-Yes doughnut are incredibly bad for you (all the really good things are), but I don't think I guy who smokes, cares too much 

Pyrophobic(at weddings)()- Fires are bad. Even worse than the cake falling down. (it really did, just like on America's Funniest Home Videos.) There was almost a fire. Heather (my sister) had tikki torches, (it was a beach theme) all throughout the yard. And this was in Nevada, where the plants are_ very, very_ dry. I appointed my little brother as fire lookout and then I just blew half the torches out myself an hour into the reception.

  



	7. Off With Her Head

This is a shorter chapter than the last, but I figured that was better than taking forever to post a longer one.

_Off with her Head... _

  
The pounding of boots on the pavement echoed loudly through the deserted streets. Now wasn't the time for stealth, now was the time for speed, speed to get out of town before those freaks regained consciousness. _Please don't be there_...Remy _knew_ Marie should know better than to go back to the motel. It would be the first place they looked. He still wasn't sure how dangerous that woman was, but Sabretooth he knew. And Sabretooth wasn't after him, he was taking orders from the woman who was very interested in Marie. In the millions of things that run through a person's head during stressful situations, he remembered hearing that Sabretooth had been working for Magneto. 

Magneto he didn't know, but had heard of. The guy wasn't exactly low profile with trying to blow of the Statue of Liberty or whatever it was he had been doing a while back. From his reputation, Magneto thought of himself as a freedom fighter and wannabe mutant saviour. But, more often than not, he ended up just stacking up casualties and property damage. He could understand why Creed would like working for him, but why would Magneto want an animal like Creed? The guy probably wasn't the humanitarian he thought himself to be. Was Creed still with Magneto? If so, why did he what Marie? Being hounded by a super terrorist and his crew might have been traumatic to send Marie running to Madripoor. Maybe. _But I still think chere could take him_, she handled his goons pretty well. 

The motel door was within sight now, no signs of anyone following, yet. That was only a matter of time though. Again, he prayed fervently that _chere_ hadn't flown back here. Unfortunately, she didn't think logically when she was in one of her "moods," and this was the worst he'd ever seen her. As the door flew open, he saw that his bad hunch was right. She was here, huddled in a corner, eerily reminiscent of the "nightmare" incident. 

"Marie, we have to get out of here. Sabretooth and the rest of them won't stay out for long. They may be working for a guy named Magneto. I don't know what he wants, but can't be good-," he knelt down to be level with her eyes. Although he couldn't see them; her arms were covering her face with her hands resting on her head. She almost, almost looked asleep, she was so still. Hadn't moved a fraction of an inch he slammed the door open. He reached for her hands so he could talk some sense into her. 

With her arms over her face, she couldn't be able to see well, but she saw enough to know he was near. When he reached out she let out an awful shriek and lurched sideways away from his hand. "**DON'T TOUCH ME!** DO YOU WANT TO END UP LIKE HIM! OR LIKE HER!" The unnaturally calm was gone, replaced by near hysterics. Her hands had fallen away and he could see her face now. It was still the pale, sickly green with hollow yellow eyes. "Please, please don't touch me. I don't wanna hurt you, too," hysterics giving way to tearful pleading.

None of this made any sense, but there was no time to figure out what was going on, "You won't hurt me, _chere_. But I promise, I'll stay away," he backed up a bit and held his hands up. "See? I don't know what's going on, but we don't have time to figure it out. We have to leave before they- "

"They won't come here. Mystique gave em orders to stay back, she didn't want to scare me off.. The both of them were only here for recon and back up, in case you were trouble. But Creed jumped the gun, she's gonna be plenty mad. She'll want to give me time to calm down before she tries talking to me again."

Mystique, that must have been the woman. Must be another one of Magneto's people. A shapeshifter, if he remembered right. He actually tried to stay away from all of the typical mutant craziness, but it was still a pretty small world when it came to mutants, especially alpha class. It was almost impossible to avoid hearing about each other, especially when one frequented the criminal underground, like he did or used to anyway. "Which one did you "hear" that from," his telepathy suspicions were more than confirmed now. That power would definitely come in handy right now, if she knew what they wanted...

She held up her hands, which had taken on a fainter shade of that horrible green, "Which one do ya think?" he assumed she was talking about the green guy. He was called Toad or Bullfrog or something stupid like that. 

"But I still ain't a path," she paused and then swallowed, like she was gulping for air. Wish I was. I'm a vampire," her eyes were tearing up again and she shut them tight. Putting her face back into her hands she said through muffling fingers, "I don't read minds... I suck them out,... thoughts, memories, energy, powers..." she paused looking at her hands again and her voice lowered to a near whisper. "And you saw what happens when I do." 

Froggy had keeled right over. That honestly sounded like a cool power to have, although why she hadn't had it for the past few months was puzzling. He tried reaching for her hand again, slowly, to show her there was nothing to be afraid of, but she jerked it quickly away. "Are ya** crazy**, swamp rat! Didn't I just tell ya, didn't you see...Do you want to end up like **_her_**?"

"Her." That was the second time she had mentioned "her." A "her" who couldn't be frog boy. "Who?" he inquired very softly.

Very softly she responsed, "Carol. Do you what to end up like Carol?"

Still keeping his voice low, "You _are_ Carol-,"

She gave a hystical little chuckle, "No, I'm not. That's not my name..That's why it never sounded quite right...I...stole it from her,... just like I stole her powers," she was yanking her hair back almost violently from her scalp. "I can't fly...I'm not strong... all I do... is steal bits of people's souls," she had started curling back up inside herself again and a hollow laugh broke free. "At least, we know what I was running from now." Her head ducked down completely and she tangled her hair in her fists.

She was running from her power? That didn't make any sense and then he remembered frog boy falling over. "What is that, _chere_? What happened to Carol?" it really wasn't his business and honestly, he didn't care. He was only trying get her to talk about it, so he could then tell her it wasn't her fault and they could leave.

"I killed her," the strange calmness was starting to return. Only it sounded less like calmness and more like a cold deadness saturating her words.

"You remember that?" had her memory finally come back?

A slight hesitation, "No...not really...I do remember that when I 'absorb' somebody, they usually wake up in a little bit and get their powers back. The longer I touch em, the longer they stay...asleep. I still got her powers...it's been so long...she must be dead," her voice kept getting softer and coarser throughout her ramblings, he strained to hear her.

Coming closer, but not attempting to touch her this time, "You don't know that _chere_. Anything could have happened. Whatever did happen, it was an accident-"

"How can you know that?" came out bitterly and frightened.

"Because I know you." her stillness tricked him into believing she was starting to calm down and he began to move forward a little bit more.

"NO! DON'T!" she jerked back so violently, she slammed against the wall. "I TOLD YOU! I CAN'T control it. That's why I had those **_stupid_** gloves...why I always wear them... I'll kill you too. I don't want to...please stay away."

When she mentioned the gloves, he got an idea. Her gloves were still lying discarded on the bed, but he was still wearing his from going outside into the cold. Using his pickpocket sleath, he slipped one gloved hand over the tips of her fingers. "Look, see...It's okay...it's okay. I'll be careful." She looked questioningly, but didn't move, torn. "You _can_ control it, you have been controlling it, for a long time," His other hand slowly reached for arm, careful to show her he wasn't near any exposed skin.

Shaking her head, wanting to believe him, but not ready too. "I don't know...I don't know how I did that...I can't...That's why it felt wrong when we kissed. Because I shouldn't have be able to do that...I don't know how I did..."

They were in the middle of crisis, but his heart lept a little at hearing that. It was her powers that felt _wrong_, nothing to do with him, or them together. Now if they could just get rid of Magneto's henchmen and soothe the minor breakdown...Trying to be very calm and logical, "You're just upset. You're control's off because you're upset. That used to happen to me, too sometimes," he tried to smile, but it withered. He pulled her in instead, wrapping both arms around her shoulders. His ever present coat was on,so that shouldn't scare her. "Take deep breaths, _chere_. If Mystique ain't coming back, then you ain't got nothing to be afraid of no more." The rise and fall of her chest slowed. "You calm down, and everything'll be fine again," Acting calm had always worked before when she was upset. This was a whole new level of upset though. He felt her inhale even deeper into his jacket, the shudder of her shoulder started to lessen. "Everything's ok now." It wasn't, but it was a useful lie.

Tears that had been threatening finally overflowed. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to hurt her...hurt anybody..."

"It's ok, you didn't do nothing wrong,"

"I want to believe you, Remy, but I-," He shushed her before she could say anything else and ran a hand through her hair, soothing down the angry tangles. If they could just get through this night, they could deal with everything else later. Everthing else meaning Mystque, Magneto and what Marie had been planning to say if she had made it back to the motel uninterrupted.  
  
The night stayed quiet and she remained in his arms for a long time. The goon squad never did show up. Maybe they would leave well enough alone, for a while at least. Marie could tell him what is was exactly that they wanted later. When she felt better. She never lifted her head from it place buried in his jacket, but the crying slowed and then stopped. Her breathing was very regular now and her heart wasn't rabbitting out of her chest 

Leaning back, he placed both hands on the side of her face, making sure her long hair was between them. Resting his forehead on the top of her head, "You feeling better now?"

Her head was tilted up but her eyes were closed, but looking much more tranquil, "Yeah," she leaned back into him again, "I am. Thanks." He smiled, even though she didn't see it, as he brushed a few errant strands of hair behind her ear. Gently, he dropped a kiss on her temple, just to prove to her that everything was back to normal, but before he could say anything, the room started going dark and slipping away...  


  
_Cue the violins..._

The bus was only half full and none of the other passengers had tried talking to her. That was good. She had spent most of the trip with her face to the window, forehead leaning on the cold glass, which endeavored to slowly leech the heat from her body. Maybe if she was cold enough, she would start to lose feeling. Forget that she was running away on a Grayhound to escape heartache, replaying a scene from some bad movie. All that was missing was a gray, cold rain on the window and a mournful soundtrack, something acoustic by Sarah McClaughin, or maybe violins. Sleep was intermittent through the hours. When her eyelids did droop closed, a faceless, black dream screamed out from behind them. Probably one of Remy's nightmares, she had grown somewhat accustomed to her own. The way they vaporized before she was ever fully awake.   
  
She didn't know what the dream was about, nor did she want to. Those were his private thoughts that she had no right to invade. It was just as well that she left. They were both so screwed up separately, what would they be like together? 

Somehow, everything that happened all made a perfect, horrible sense. The nightmares of course, but other things as well. The name Carol, that never sounded right, the days when she didn't "feel like herself", odd voices she could usually just shake off, drinking coffee black and then thinking it was way to bitter and getting some mocha cappachino thing instead. Every voice, every mood swing, every different cup of coffee, were they all different people whose minds had been sucked dry? 

In some ways it was comforting. She understood the nightmare about Geneviex now. How she wasn't just seeing what happened, she _was_ the maniac dangling the woman over the ledge of Notre Dame and laughing. At least, that was explainable now. She was having the psycho's "nightmare." Of course, to him it _wasn't_ a nightmare, which was why it had freaked her out so much. How, when or why she could have absorbed that sadist assassin, she didn't even want to think about, but apparently it had happened. 

Maybe Mystique had something to do with it, since she was working with the hairy freak now. She and her buddies were still around, but they weren't after Remy; he would be safe where he was. Number two good reason to leave. Number three being she didn't want to see the look in his eyes when he realized he would never touch her again. You would think that black and red eyes would be hard to read. But she could, she would know, she could tell. Oh, he would probably say it didn't matter at first, to make her feel better. He might even try to make it work, but it never would. How could he, could anyone, love someone they couldn't even hold hands with? Slowly, anything they had together would die in a lingering, painful death. 

Leaning back from the window and against the seat, she stuffed her hand in her pockets, trying to get into a comfortable position. Inside her pockets she felt something, and withdrew a small piece of cardboard. It was one of Remy's cards, the Queen of Hearts. She smiled and started to tear up, again, at the same time. He must have sneaked it into her coat as she left on her little "walk." Hindsight being twenty/twenty, she regretted ever leaving in the first place. If she hadn't, she would still be with him right now, she'd still be able to touch...Looking at the card one last time- _The Queen of Hearts, wasn't she the mean, crazy lady who kept yelling "off with her head?"... shut up, shut up...just please shut up_. Eyes squeezing shut, she covered her face with both hands. 

The "voices" had gotten worse since she had left. Before, at most, they were an annoying buzz. Now they were an endless stream, whispers, laughs, screams, all bouncing off the insides of her skull. Maybe it was because she remembered what they were now. She couldn't shut them out anymore, nevertheless she tried. Concentrating to block them out, like she always had. How many of them were there? It couldn't be just "Carol," although she was the loudest. Marie still couldn't remember her, what had happened, or even her last name, but she was undoubtably there. 

It really was better to end it this way. Remy didn't need to deal with _another_ one of her nervous breakdowns. He'd surely had enough of those. After waking up, he'd see she wasn't there, maybe be worried and try to look for her, but as he was looking, he would begin to realize that she was right to leave. 

That's not to say she would never see him again, the boy was resourceful, and might very well find her. Probably want to give her money or something because he'd worry about her being on her own. Marie didn't want his money, she'd been mooching off him for long enough already. _Must be a leech by nature._ The other scenario, he would be scared, maybe angry, about her assault on his mind and he'd be glad she was gone...Maybe that would be for the best way. Because she'd never have to see him again. Just pretend the last few months never happened, that she'd never fallen in love...wait... no, she did love him. She couldn't lie to herself about that. Or maybe she could. She had apparently lied to herself about a lot of things, beginning with her name ending with her entire existence. Vaguely, she wondered if she would do it again...The fugue thing Remy had tried to tell her about. Maybe tomorrow she'd wake up in Moscow and start all over again, start living another stolen life.  


_The Benefits of Mass Transit..._

  
  
A weak winter sun filtered through the window panes. It was very early morning in...where was she again? A quick look around the bus terminal the grayhound had just pulled into...New York. _Why New York?_ It seemed like a good place to run away too. Lots of places to wander, big crowds to get lost in. And no one here would know or care, who or what she was. _What better way to make up for all the lives you've destroyed than running off to New York to become a dancer on Broadway...I ain't gonna be a dancer..I just don't want to hurt people no more...The best way to do that is just **not** hurt them, Don't touch them. Think you can mange that? Or there always the Brooklyn bridge...Do you** ever** get tired of yapping?..._An assortment of odd looks from her fellow passengers. The bus was unloading now and the people in line around her started drifting away leaving a four foot radius of empty space between them and the odd girl. _Well, if you keep making people think you're crazy, that should keep them safe, I still think you should consider the bridge..._Marie didn't bother responding, it wasn't worth the effort, it didn't help. One hand moved up to rub her temples. The pounding headache she had after absorbing Mortimer a.k.a, Toad,, funny name for a super villain, Mortimer, had grown exponentially worse since leaving Canada. _Wait, jumping off the bridge won't hurt, hmm..maybe you could still drown...If I die so do you...You call this living? _If this chatter kept up, she was seriously thinking about ramming her head against a wall to bring back the amnesia. 

Stepping off the bus into the terminal, she looked around. It looked like a bus stop in a big city. Lots of concrete, high set, orangish, flourescent lights making everyone underneath them look sickly. Her eyes continued to rove as she slowly made her way across the pavement heading for where, she hadn't decided yet. The strap on her duffel bag slipped a bit and she pulled it up again. Hadn't even had a chance to unpack in Quebec before she was moving again.

During her last sweep of the station, her eyes ran a across a figure slumping back in one of the chairs. The person was far enough away that she couldn't see the face, but the posture she would recognize absolutely anywhere. Spinning around before he saw her, she started walking in the opposite direction. But she was obviously too late. A voice rang out from across the cavenerous room. "Marie!" _Oh great, him again...Be quiet already...No, I'm sick that no good_- _shut up_...Trying to ignore him, she kept walking, but heard a pounding staccato against the concrete. He was running to catch up with her, oblivious to the stares from the rest of the building and she froze. She thought he might find her, but so fast? 

"Marie, wait, please," his footsteps slowed and he caught her arm, spinning her around to face him. 

"What are you doing here, Remy?" not able to look in his eyes, she turned her head.

"Following you," a familiar reply, as unapologetic as the last he said it. "I said if you didn't come back, I'd have to assume something happened and come looking for you. Remember your new best friend is still out there. "

"That's why you were safer in Quebec-,"

"I don't care. I ain't afraid of those guys. Believe me, I've dealt with worse. You think you can vanish into thin air in the middle of a _figh_t and I'm not gonna look for you?"

Without raising her head, " How did you even find me?"

"With the way you kept going on about stolen powers, I didn't think you'd fly anywhere, so that only left a few options. The guy at the bus station remembered you, not many people there at 2 in the morning. And the day my Harley can't out run a Grayhound...I had to talk to you."

"There's nothing to say. You know why I had to go." She had cried enough for one night, she wasn't going to do it again.

For a blessed second or two he was quiet, thinking of what to say,"If there was something ..in my head...something you saw..." if possibly she looked away even further, not seeing the pained look on his face. Instead of saying anything else, he grabbed her nearest hand and shoved something into it. "Here, you'll probably need this..."

Looking down, she saw a strand of diamonds, part of the chain from the _L'Etoile de Tricherie _necklace_. "_I can't take this, this is Genny's necklace," she tried handing it back.

Pushing her own hand back toward her, "Let it do some good for once. Take it to a jeweler, say you found it in your grandma's attic, or someting like that. These are the smaller stones, nobody'll be suspious. You can find yourself an apartment, something with one of those full sized fridges you like," his mouth quirked into a sad smile

So this was how it was finally going to end. A traitorous tear or two leaked out before she could stop them, "I've already taken too much from you," one finally shove back toward him. "You'll be better off this way. Without me-,"

His eyes widened dramatically behind the dark glasses he always wore in public places. In his mind there were two reasons she could have left. Because she was afraid of hereself and what had just happened or because she was afraid of him. She knew alot about his past, but not in the gory, full techni-color detail she would have gotten after "absorbing" him. From the look on her face when he first saw her, he was sure it was him, but he was questioning that now. "_I'm_ better off? If you saw something about me, something...to make you run, then I can't stop you. But if you've got some notion that I'm _better off_ without you, because of Mystique or the touching thing-,"

"Touching thing?" she almost shouted incredulously. _How could he dismiss something like that?_

"Yes, the touching-,"

"That "touching thing" means that I'll never touch you, or anyone again. Ever." She was hung up on the touch thing? He felt a desperate, renewed hope surge up.

She continued, oblivious to his thoughts. "Have you _really_ thought about that? _Really_ thought about what it would be like to live that way? Because I know, and it's not something I would wish on anyone else," that sounded tough and resolved, didn't it?

"That's crazy. You _can_ touch, I've seen you." he answered in an irritating matter of fact way.

"That's different! I...don't know how, but I can't do it now. You know what happened or did I cause too much brain damge?" He opened his mouth, but she cut him off before he could say anything , "My first boyfriend... I put him in a coma for_ three weeks_. Do you want that to happen to you, too?"

His facial expression didn't change in the slightest, "I'm not in a coma. I was only out for maybe an hour, tops, or I wouldn't have been able to catch up with you."

She wanted scream, she wasn't getting through to him. "But it could have been much worse-,"

If her sudden flight into the night wasn't about him, then there was no way he was going to just let her walk away. "It still doesn't matter. You want to be completely hands-off until you get your power under control again, that's fine-,"

"What if I never get it under control?'" she said with an awful finality and started to walk away again. 

"It still doesn't matter." The girl in front of him kept moving, "You doubt my love for you?" he wasn't sure if he wanted her to yell at him, or laugh or hit him or what. He just wanted her to actually _look_ at him for once in the conversation.

"Stop saying that!" it came louder than she planned and a few more stares were drawn in their direction. "It's not funny, it never was," undignified tears threatened anew.

Standing where he was he responded quietly, "I'm not joking. I never was. If you found out _anything_ about me..." he looked at her pointedly, and she ducked her head, still ashamed, "...you have to know that."

Finally, looking up, and doing a horrendous job of not crying, "I...tried not too," she really had tried to block out his thoughts, the ones she had stolen. To hear him say it out loud, words she would have longed to hear the night before. Words which now, made the inevitable so much harder, she knew with a dread certainty that they were true. "They're you're thoughts...I didn't have the right..."she ws speaking even softer than him, both for the obvious reasons and because the two of them had drawn an audience.

Two steps and they were within inches of each other again. "You know now."

"It doesn't change anything, though!"she moaned miserably. "If _I_ love you, I wouldn't make you live like that." 

Almost desperately, he reached out to her. His hands gently grazed her arms, while she was staring at the ground, once more. "I fell in love with you without hardly touching you. That won't change. None of your reasons' will _ever_ change that. _If_ you love me, don't leave me, _ma cherie_."

She thought back to the night before, how she was ready to turn around and run back into his arms, despite the risk Was she willingly to risk again? Risk trying to love him, despite not touching him? Could they survive that? Could she survive losing him? Expecting the annoying voices to chime in at any minute with unhelpful suggestions, she subconsciously braced herself. Curiously, they were silent, even Carol. The tiny cracks in the concrete were not providing any answers, so she slowly looked to his face.

Dark glass meant her gaze, but even from behind the sunglasses, she could see his heart in his eyes. _This is why I left when he was still out, because I couldn't do it to his face._ Once she saw those eyes, there was no other option, she did what she had decided to do several hours and a lifetime before.

He caught her when she unexpected jumped into his arms and he felt several tons of tension leave his body suddenly. Letting out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, he heard her whisper, "I do love you. Guess I should finally tell you that."

Whispering back, "I love you, too, _cherie_." The moment was oddly broken by a smattering of applause. The people who had been watching curiously, evidently appreciated the little lover's drama being enacted. Remy looked around a bit, smiling sheepishly, while Marie tried her best to hide in his coat.

"Kiss her, already!" someone, who sounded a more than a bit drunk, shouted, and a smattering a laughter followed. Well, this was New York.

Obliging though, Remy lightly kissed the top of Marie's forehead where the bangs covered her skin. 

"Aww...That doesn't count!"

"Hey, you want a show, get cable!" More laughing and the impromptu crowd began to disperse. 

"I really should have stayed in Canada," his now official girlfriend muttered into his coat lapels. At least if she was stuck in a bad movie, for now it had a happy ending.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That was a little faster than the last update. Some Romy momenst and more plot next chapter, I promise. I kept Toad's name as Mortimer, he-heh, I'm evil. I like Evo but there are just not enough characters named Mortimer. 

ishandahalf- I know, know, it was a long time between updates, I just can't find the time to write recently. Thank you for being patient, this chapter was faster, not bunny on crack faster, but still...Stupid, stupid brotherhood! But what do you expect, it's a Gambit/Rogue story, things can't be easy. There was a good dose of Romyness in this chapter though.  


Muccamukk()- Good point about the being half dead, she used her powers on Pyro in X2 and she was fine and the infamous Bobby scene. I'm going to chalk it up to emotional state. She wasn't expecting to absorb Toad, so it was harder for her. Thank you for filling me in a Canada. More than I needed, but I love to collect odd bits of information. Never know when you can use it and helps me win in Trivial Pursuit :) If you take Ottawa first, you could eliminte the northeren front when you do go after New York. hmmm... Good luck with the comics, they seem confusing at first, but it gets better. :)  


4Rogue()-It's funny, when I started writing the road trip, it occured to me that it was a little bit like how Gambit and Storm first met in the comics, but minus the Shadow King and the her being 10 years old part. Lots more Remy/Rogue interaction in this chapter.  


Rogue15()- I was wondered about the slashes. Sorry about your spacebar, (darn computers.) I just have to say, you made my day when you reviewed each chapter at one time. I had like nine reviews at once because of it.:) I was hoping for a powers upgrade in X2, but alas...There still X3, where I'm also hoping for Remy as well...Don't know how likely either of those are, but I can dream.  


Leigh- Here's the next installment, hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long.

Neurotic Temptress-Of course he was looking at the escalator and the lamp. How can you doubt him? oh yes, he's very smooth. :) He has a secret passion for interior design that no one ever mentions. The X-Men are still on the case, even if they aren't making much progress yet. They are a determined bunch, though. More angst than banter in this chapter, but Gambit/Rogue banter is the highlight of comic book reading, that's why the movie needs him.  


Alwaysright-Yep, the touching thing has to do with Carol and the amnesia. Once in the comics, when Carol took over she could touch people even though it was still Rogue's body. I'm playing with that angle, but why her powers were dormant when Carol wasn't _actually_ in control may take a little longer to get into. It won't be ignored though. A more Romyness in this chapter, but her "curse" is back in place.  



	8. To Talk of Many Things

The Time Has Come... 

"So you remember everything now?" He was curious to see if the amnesia was finally gone.

A mild sigh, "No, Not everything. A lot of pieces..." She didn't sound frustrated, she never did, about her memory. The noise level in the diner attached to the bus station was steadily increasing, the breakfast crowd had started filtering in. Most of the people were busy with their own concerns, but they got the occasional smile from passers-by. For the most part, Remy and Marie could talk without much fear of being overheard. As one of the earlier arrivals, they had managed to claim a somewhat secluded corner booth. Although she was still a little wary of close contact, they were both on the same side of the table and his arm was secured snugly around her. "There was a huge rush of memories back in Quebec and on the way here. So many I could hardly think straight, but not all of them were mine. Some, were, you know, from ...other people. It's pretty much stopped now, don't know when, or if, it will start up again. The hardest part is keeping them, the memories and the voices, all sorted. I keep hearing Carol's voice the most, that's not helping. Surprisingly, she's angry with me," again with the gallows humor.  
  
"Can't you tell her it was an accident?"  
  
"I've tried...She don't want to listen. But I can't really tell her that anyway, 'cuz I still don't remember what happened" a pause, "...but she's quiet now, too. Has been for a while, thank goodness. Is that a terrible thing to say? I don't want to listen to her complain."   
  
"I wasn't there, but I know it couldn't be your fault. It'll get better." He took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. She would be able to control the voices eventually, but until then, there was little he could do, except be there for her. He changed the subject. "So New York? Was that where you wanted to go next?" Throughout Europe, unless he had a specific reason, they had taken turns deciding where the next stop would be.  
  
A non-committal shrug "There were limited choices at that time of night. It was between here, Toronto or Boston. New York sounded good. I figured I could get a job, try to find an apartment, do normal stuff..."  
  
"Get one of dem fridges?" grinning he had to ask.  


Returning his grin, "Yeah, and a stove, too."  
  
He made a face like he was extremely impressed, "Very high class." She laughed, he reveled in the sound of her laugh.

Coming to New York had been about 'starting over.' But now there was no need, everything was back to the way it was. Well, there were some minor adjustments, she could happily deal with. "We don't have to stay. Whenever you want to leave-," 

A kind of shrug, showing he wasn't in a hurry. "We could hang around for a while. Try out the 'fridge and stove' thing. Might be nice to -,"

"Settle down?" she couldn't resist interjecting.  
  
"I did not say that." looking stern as she laughed again. "You're putting words in my mouth."

'Settling down' sounded quite appealing to her, but she didn't want to spook him too soon._ As if the breakdown shouldn't have done that already._ "Maybe....Last place I remember was living in Mississippi. It was a white house with shutters," her eyes got that faraway look briefly, but only briefly... "Speaking of which, can I borrow your phone, cher?"  
  
He grinned like an idiot when she said that and happily handed over his cell.

Flipping it opened, she punched in unlocking code, "I'm gonna call Mystique before she follows us down here doing something else crazy."  
  
She said "gonna call Mystique" like she was talking about an annoying friend or relative and not an international terrorist. _This should be an interesting conversation.   
_  
While she was waiting for the other side to pick up, the waitress came over. Being as his girlfriend, he was going to like saying that, was distracted, he ordered for her. He was famished. Turns out, falling off a building, driving all night and pouring your heart out in bus station in front of strangers makes a body very hungry. The last thing he had eaten was a bagel with cream cheese and smoked salmon at the airport. One of those actually sounded really good right now, but he would have to make do with an omelette and hash browns. Marie had apparently gotten through and was sounding irritated.  
  
"...Where am I? After that stunt you pulled, I ain't sure if I should tell you that, Momma."  
  
_A very interesting conversation, indeed._  
  
"Yes....Well, Toad ain't as stupid as you think he is and I recognized that face you were wearing.....If you want to explain, then explain, from over there, without your hairy, friend throwing Remy off a building."  
  
He was really wishing Mystique would talk louder, so he could hear both sides of this call.  
  
"**He's**dangerous? I know who your hanging out with these days. And you have the nerve to call-.....I don't care who told you what, I trust him. You don't have to, but you and all of your "friends" do have to leave him be......" she was sitting up now and leaning forward, very close to starting to pace. Her accent was getting stronger, too. Definitely annoyed. "Okay, then. I'm listening...No, I didn't know about Grandma Irene.....She's not-?......Oh......okay......no, it's just unexpected...uh-huh......so what happened to them?......oh......" she quieted down for a bit, Mystique must have finally gotten to the "explanation." Good timing too, because the waitress chose that moment to bring their food. It would have been fun, though, to see the look on the poor girl's face if Marie had been talking about throwing people off buildings right then. More muttered uh-huhs and yeahs. For a few more minutes, that was all he heard. His amor didn't sound as upset as she had been. "I don't know...Give a little time already...How 'bout I call you again later on, alright?...Okay...Bye." she hung up, releasing a long breath, and handed him his phone back.  
  
"Alright, so what's the story with Momma? And what does Magneto have to do with any of this?" He wasn't one to pry, but he considered it a remarkable triumph of willpower that he managed to wait till she hung up to ask that question.  
  
Another, longer sigh and she seemed to notice for the first time that there was food in front of her. The plate in front of him was nearly empty and he was still hungary. "Magneto is still in prison and has nothing to do this. Well, as you heard, Mystique is my mother. Finding me was personal, didn't have anything official to do with the Brotherhood or mutant crusades and all that crap. The only reason Toad and Sabretooth were there was because she knew them and could coerce them into helping her," picking a fork, but not touching her food yet. "They're "business associates" not her "friends" she says, and she only brought them along because she thought you were dangerous. And Grandma Irene wasn't my grandma,"  
  
"Okay" he said non-committally, having no idea who Grandma Irene was.  
  
"She was...Let me start again, this is gonna be a long story,"   
  
"S'okay, I think I want another omelette anyway...and maybe a doughnut,"  
  
  
  
Make New Friends...  
  
  
"Good evening, Logan." It was late, all of the students in the were in their rooms, but Storm was sitting serenely in the foyer as Wolverine stalked through the mansion doors. She clearly knew he had been up to something and if she knew, the rest of them did as well.  
  
"Figgered it'd be Cyke waiting up to read me the riot act," he grumbled. True to his unspoken promise, the minute he'd found something incriminating, he'd gone off to beat answers out of Fury. But that situation hadn't turned out quite like he had expected.  
  
Storm ignored his insinuation. Truthfully, Scott was in Seattle, following another lead, but it was probably better to have her speak with Logan anyway. Wolverine rarely ever agreed with anything Scott said, no matter what it was Cyclops was saying. Ororo hoped she would have marginally better luck, because, in true alpha male fashion, Logan was markedly less confrontational with women. "We're all as concerned about Maire as you are Logan. But you know why we can't confront Col. Fury directly."   
  
"Doesn't matter. Fury's not involved." shrugging off her comment as he shrugged off his jacket.  
  
She seemed mildly taken aback, "And how, pray tell, do you know that?" Not sure she wanted to hear the answer.  
  
"He told me. And relax, I didn't even have to threaten him." Logan actually smiled, a truly unsettling sight.  
  


Waiting patiently in the blacken apartment, he tensed as the front door cracked open. The man he knew to be Col. Nick Fury stepped inside and began to take his coat off. "Fury?" he both questioned and rumbled menacingly. The other man spun around quickly, his gun appearing from nowhere and unerring pointed at the intruder. But as soon as the Colonel caught sight of who was standing there, he inexpiably relaxed.  
  
"Over thirty years in special forces and you're still the only one who can sneak up on me like." He shook his head ruefully, "I'd offer you a drink, Sergeant, but you look like you're here on business," actually cracking a smile as he said that.  
  
"Sergeant?" Logan questioned before he had a chance to stop himself.

"Right, You're probably not a sergeant anymore. Can't picture you as an officer though."

  
  
Now she looked confused, "And if I may ask again, why did he do that?" Again not sure if she wanted to know the answer.  
  
"Because he thought I was with Canadian intelligence, and he wants to help." Wolverine had the satisfaction of seeing Ororo's look of full-blown shock. That sort of subterfuge wasn't the type of thing the X-men really thought Logan was capable of. Not that he could take all the credit for that brilliant bit of deception, but she didn't have to know that immediately.   
  
"So what does Canadian intelligence want?" he said in an easy, obliging manner. Logan had no idea why Fury thought he was with the Canadian government, probably had to do with this "Sergeant" business, but if he managed to keep his mouth shut and play along he could find out everything he wanted to know without tipping off the military. It was a smart plan, but he had **really** been looking forward to bashing some heads in.  
  
"We hear you lost an agent."  
  
Fury began to look wary, did the 'sergeant' strike a nerve? "Did you? Well, why does Ottawa care?"  
  
"That depends on what happened?"  
  
Fury shrugged, playing casual. "She was attacked. In her own apartment. Probably a psi. You wouldn't happen to know anything about it?" Since Logan had brought up the question, it was natural to assume that he did know something.  
  
This was going to require some delicacy that he wasn't used to. "What was her assignment? Could the attacker have been someone she was targeting?"   
  
Fury snorted, "She wasn't on assignment. Her unit had just returned from Afghanistan and she had put in for some leave time to go see her folks. But she never came in the next day to get the paperwork approved. Disappeared the night the before. No sign of forced entry or a struggle. Bam, like that and she was gone. Now she's a vegetable. So what's your peoples' interest in this?"  
  
He had to say something, now. "We lost somebody too. Looks like the same day."  
  
Now Fury really looked interested, "Same MO?"  
  
"Yep, but we ain't found her yet."   
  
  
  
"You believe him?"  
  
"Yeah, I can usually smell when someone's lying. But since Fury's not involved, that brings us back to square one in looking for Rogue." He had been so close.  
  
Storm looked thoughtful, this was lot more evidence, or lack thereof to consider. "Did he say anything else?"  
  
"Yeah," Logan pulled a couple of folded up bills out of his jeans pocket, "He said, he owed me fifty bucks from a poker game in Da Nang."  
  
  
  
To Talk of Many Things...  
  
  
The waitress returned, left, brought more food, left again, all the while Marie related the strange story about her two mothers and their attempt to protect her by hiding her in a human family. As they talked, on the other side of the diner, a utterly non-conspicuous woman with brown hair and a ratty jacket got up from her seat and made her way towards the door.   
  
"They were ones I grew up calling Mom and Dad," she finally took a bite of her probably now cold breakfast. "I remember Irene coming to see me every once and awhile. I called her Grandma Irene. We would play in the yard, I also remember my mom not being very happy when she came. Mystique never said how she found my parents, but the adoption wasn't quite legal. That would leave too much of a paper trail, so my folks were always afraid she or Irene would come and take me back one day. I always thought how my mom acted was weird, but I was only a kid and didn't think about it too much. I was more interested in my bug collection."  
  
Holding a hand up to stop her, "Bug collection?" this sounded good.  
  
Dropping her fork with a clatter, long enough to swat his arm, "I was five! I liked ladybugs and caterpillars."   
  
"No grasshoppers or cockroaches?"  
  
"No, they were gross," she said properly. Resuming her previous thread of conversation, "Anyway, grandma stopped coming and Mom told me she had passed away. Which she had, but not until a few years later. Mystique said that coming to see me was getting too risky..." her tone turned slightly wistful. "They would take turns, one time Irene would come, then it would be Raven looking like Irene's."   
  
"I ain't trying to sound disrespectful or nothin', but if Irene could see the future..."  
  
"Why didn't she know something was going to happen to her? She did. But by then she had kinda given up. Her visions weren't concrete, she saw strong probabilities. Mama said she was called "Destiny." The farther out the vision, the more..." struggling for the right word, "ambiguous... it was. They were hoping when the time came closer, Destiny would be able to see better what was going to happen to me. But before that could happen... It was a stroke. She did see it, but didn't see a good way around it, so she let it come. She was an old woman by then. Raven's power keeps her from aging, but Irene's didn't. Left a nice long letter for Raven, explaining everything, saying good bye. Left one for me too. Momma wants to give it to me...I ain't sure I want it." Without interrupting her, he noted to himself how she slid in and out of calling Mystique "momma" or "Raven." "Knowing the future didn't help the two of them...maybe ignorance is bliss." The fork scraped as she pushed eggs around on her plate. She moved her breakfast more than she ate it. "Other than all of that, my childhood was uneventful, until I put my boyfriend in a coma."  
  
He could easily see that memory still upset her, even though she said it lightly.  
  
"I still don't remember my folks reaction to that, but it probably wasn't good, because I know I ran away. Momma says she's been looking for me since then, but never did find me. Some of Irene's visions and stuff are written down and Raven has those books. That's how she finally tracked me down in Canada."  
  
"When is this demon stuff supposed to happen?"  
  
"Momma thought it already did, with my disappearing and amnesia and everything, but admitted she's not sure. I think it already has, too. Draining the soul, does that sound familiar? But it wasn't my soul, it was Carol's. Irene saw me killing her." her eyes went to the formica tabletop and she started to lean away from him. Gently he pulled her back.  
  
"Don't think that way, _chere_," he whispered fervently into her ear.  
  
"Don't you think I got off kinda easy for having my soul eaten or drained or...whatever."   
  
He could think of some counter arguments to that, but didn't. IF the demon thing already happened, she had nothing more to worry about. But Mystique didn't act like that. "Does Momma think I'm this demon person?"  
  
"Wouldn't put it past her, though she didn't say it to my face. She's says she was just worried." 

"Do you believe that?" despite her motherly claims, Marie still hadn't any reason to trust Mystique.

"I don't know...She is a terrorist and a criminal, but she still my momma. I remember that, I guess I should at least give her a chance to prove herself."  
  
"You remember that face, chere," he said gently. "She _is_ a shapeshifter."   
  
"I thought about that, too. But it's more than her face, I remember her. And why would she make up a story like that? What good would it do her? But I promise to be careful."  
  
He couldn't really ask for more than that. As long as 'Momma' didn't bring around any more of her 'friends' around, he would happy. Heck, she could bring a whole platoon of her 'friends' and he'd still be happy. He had Marie leaning back against his arm and her head resting on his shoulder, he would be happy if the world ended this moment.  
  
"Enough about Momma," continuing with this conversation would only make her upset. "We're in New York, let's do something." He pulled her a little bit closer "I don't know about you, but I feel like celebrating," he said looking into her eyes.  
  
Her cheeks blushed furiously and she smiled shyly, which was a new expression for her. In between all the trauma was finding true love part of the day. " I guess this is kinda our first date." Her smile went slightly crooked, " Probably not how you pictured it."   
  
"It's perfect," he replied with utmost sincerity bringing his other arm around her. "But I don't want you to think I can't do better than this. I know a great place for dinner tonight, I can get us tickets to a show, anything you want to see... Maybe this morning we can go to the Statue of Liberty?" She had loved to tourist spots in Europe.  
  
Her brow crinkled, "Actually, I violently do not want to go to the Statue of Liberty." Then she shrugged, "Don't ask me why."  
  
"Oookay. Bad memory?"  
  
"Probably, and when I remember it, I'll really wish I hadn't. That seems to be the pattern," that sentence came out more wryly than depressed, her mood was improving. 

Just to cover all his bases, "Does this extend to all of New York or just -,"

"Just the Statue of Liberty, I'm pretty sure," A mild deva ju was stirring, but she could recall any images or details. It felt like something was there, pounding against an invisible wall trying to get out. Not a wall, a really dense, solid fog, through the haze was...something...  
  
"Hello?" The fog evaporated and she saw a hand waving in front of her eyes.  
  
Shoving Remy's hand away, "Stop that." More irritated with herself than with him.  
  
He was playing light, but concern crept in around the corners when he said, "You zoned out on me. Impossible as it may sound, something can take your attention from moi?"   
  
"Actually, it not hard at all, let alone impossible," trying to sound very annoyed.  
  
"Aww..you don't mean that, you love me too much."  
  
"Am I gonna regret telling you that?"  
  
"Probably." 

  
She made as if to get up and walk out of the booth, but let him catch her arm. As he pulled her into him again, she giggled and almost knocked over a plate because of not paying attention.  
  
"How 'bout the Empire States Building?" she nodded absent-mindedly; she appeared to be concentrating.  
  
"You still trying to remember?" not sure if that was a good idea or not.  
  
Finally giving up, "Doesn't matter, I still can't. Maybe it was someone else."  
  
A flash of oddly inspired insight, "That Toad guy, he could have been there when Magneto tried to blow it up."  
  
Her brow furrowed again, perplexed, "Why would Magneto want to blow of the Statue of Liberty? How does that help the mutant 'cause'?"   
  
His jacket moved up and then down again as he shrugged, not knowing or caring how guys in helmets minds' worked. "I don't know, there was probably some crazy people logic. Guess you could see if Toad knows, but if you think too hard about him, you might turn green again."  
  
Spinning around on the bench, she questioned playfully, "Would you still love me if I was green?"  
  
Replying with great mock suspicion, "This is a test isn't it? What if I say-,"  
  
"Would you still love me if I started craving insects and watching Dr. Who?"  
  
Involuntary laughter burst free. "_Dr. Who_? Are you serious?" It was hard to picture wanted terrorist as a sci-fi geek.  
  
Trying to sound a little indignant, "Hey, people in glass houses shouldn't throw photon torpedoes, _Mr. Trekkie_."  
  
"I am not a Trekkie. When I was younger, I had a mild appreciation-,"  
  
She started laughing now, "Younger? Ha! Is that why when we saw that mutant rights debate on the BBC, the first thing you said was 'Hey, that bald guy looks like Captain Picard!'"  
  
He mustered quite the evil look for that comment, and gave a surreptitious glance around to see if anyone had heard her. "It was a statement of fact. That does not mean-,"  
  
Putting a finger on his lips, she leaned in a little closer and whispered seductively into his ear, "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." The reason for why he was annoyed with her disappeared out of his mind. All he could think about at the moment was how much he wanted to kiss her. Evidently, she could tell what he was thinking because she backed up a bit as if to say, Don't you go getting any crazy ideas, swamp rat. A fraction of her playfullyness evaporated.  
  
"Maybe I should try to find that Captain Picard guy. He was some kind a doctor, or scientist. Probably got an institute or somthin', he can figure out what's wrong with me."  
  
"Nothin' s wrong with you. I told you I don't care-,"  
  
"Maybe I want to touch you. Ever thought about that?"  
  
"I thought about it. But I love to hear you say it," tracing one finger along the side of her face, gloves from last night still on, just for occasions like this. "Anytime you want, I don't mind." a smile even though he was completely serious.  
  
"No," not quite as amused, but not backing away this time.  
  
"You need to practice,"he reasoned. "You don't need some crazy doctor guy to help you with that."  
  
"Crazy?-,"  
  
"Yeah, like in mad scientist- crazy or Magneto's best friend- crazy. Hey, anything's possible " He got a small smile out of that crack. Turning more serious, sounding reassuring "You'll work it out. I know you can. Maybe when the rest of your memories come back."  
  
"And if they don't?"  


The mischievous grin was back, "We got plenty of time to make new ones." She blushed again, but huddled closer.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
This chapter seemed a little slower to me. Lots of kinda boring plot-y stuff. But it needed to be said before I could go on with the rest of the story. A few cutesy moments though. I didn't make up that Star Trek thing out of thin air. In the Gambit series, (I have no idea of the issue number) Courier makes some Star Trek joke and Gambit says he doesn't know who's more pathetic, Courier for making a Star Trek joke or him for getting it. I thought the idea of Gambit being a closet Star Trek fan was funny.I have no idea if I spell Da Nang right. If I did and you have no idea where I'm talking about, it's the place in Vietnam. 

Muccamuk, I told you I love odd trivia facts. Did you catch the smoked salmon bagel bit?  
  
  
ishandahalf- (Plays the twilight zone music here) Way too weird to be a coincidence. Yeah, the "no touching" is back, but I can't let that get in the way of Romyness. Heck, it's a major part of Romyness. Ooo a gold star, shiny. Thanks! :) Who could they ever run into in New York? The Avengers, maybe? Logan, murderously overprotective? Why would you ever think that? :) And I really wasn't a crack bunny this time. Sorry!  
  
Alwaysright- I like little threads running through a story, makes it more fun. I will explain the touching thing more in later chapter, but glad you're happy with the explaination for now. Someone elsewho thinks they might run into the X-Men. Why would something like that happen? New York is a big state ya know.   
  
coon210-I'm not so fast with the updates. But I did make it!  
  
sphinxchick- I've never got clapping before, how exciting! How could anyone not like cutesy, fluffy chapters? Best chapter? No pressure there for the future. :) Mystique does seems to keep turning up, she'll be around. I love that family. 

Girl number 1- Seeing Jubilee in a mall would be fun idea. Or Jubilee seeing her. I'm picturing Jubes doing a double take while walking through a clothes store.  
  
Neurotic Temptree- It really is a toss up between banter and fluff. Tough choice to make. I know the clapping wasn't the most creative ending in the world. It just seemed so darn cute at the time! And I really can't resist cute.  
  
Kryptonite-She doesn't go back to the masion yet (that would make things way too easy.) She has some of her memories, which is more than before. But why didn't they all come back? She's not insane, but there is a reason.  


Rogue151- Hurray! A new keyboard! Rogue 151? I think I'm AJ10 now, dumb numbers, oh well. Jeepers, everyone keeps talking about if Marie will see the X-Men again. What would give anyone a crazy idea like that? ;) Good luck with your story! 

Kaitland-They do need to be together. Grumbling about crazy writers who don't understand that.

  


  
  
  
  
  
  



	9. Settling Down

A short update. This is another transition- type chapter, but I promise more interesting stuff happens than last time. 

  
_Picard to Bridge..._

  
Although he would never admit it, and certainly never show it, rich people always made Remy LeBeau nervous. Maybe it was because he was homeless as a child, or maybe it was he was usually trying to steal something from said rich people. A thief's fear of getting caught. Whatever the reason, Remy was nervous, like he usually was in these situations, but this time he was actually letting himself show it. Just a little bit, fidgety movements, shifting in his seat. He had an impenetrable poker face when he wanted to. That's one of the reasons his brother started calling him "Gambit." Later, he would find out that _gambit_ was a term used in chess more than in cards, but by then the name had stuck. 

"Good afternoon, ...Mr. Gordon, is it?" the rich person in question, 'Captain Picard,' inquired as he wheeled in behind a massive mahogany desk. Dark, intimidating, rich people furniture. While Remy actually had a fair amount of money himself, he preferred furnishings that didn't radiate an ominous presence. 

"Um..yeah. Most people call me Jimmy," he let the slightest stutter into his sentence as he shifted again in his chair. The man in front of him smiled reassuringly, in the best grandfatherly type way. He seemed like a very nice man, but that was the reason Remy was sitting here, with his new fake identity and slightly nervous habits, to see if that statement was in fact true. Marie wasn't letting go of the idea of Captain Picard- scientist guy, the one behind the massive desk. According to the press, he was kind, compassionate advocate of mutant rights. Almost too good to be true, which made Remy suspicious. According to Marie, _everything_ made Remy suspicious, but that didn't mean he wasn't right. 

After the incident at the bus station, the one where he and Marie enacted the final scene of some Julia Roberts movie, they stayed in NewYork for a few days. Showed her some of his favorite places in the city, did _not_ go to the Statue of Liberty, saw some plays, he even sat through 'Lion King' for her; he _had_ to be in love. He brought up the subject of staying again because she seemed to like that idea; and he would do absolutely anything to make her happy. The more they talked about staying for a while, the better it sounded. He had been on the road for a while, it would be nice to rest, "rest" not "settle down." So they found an apartment. A nice, unassuming place without a stitch of mahogany in it. And of course, Marie wanted to find a 'normal' job. A restaurant in Manhattan with more rich people who tipped well. He wasn't sold on the whole nine to five routine yet, but she seemed to like it. With all the trapping of a 'normal' life in place, she started obsessing about her powers again. 

"I here you heard some difficulty finding my office," again with the reassuring smile. 

He had taken a "wrong turn" following the receptionist directions to headmaster's office. Remy returned with a somewhat sheepish smile, "This place is pretty big." 

Marie had latched on to the idea of the Picard-looking guy again, she started finding out more information about him, starting with his real name, Dr. Charles Francis Xavier. The more she found out about him and his 'institute,' the more fixated she became on the idea that he might be able to help her. Remy didn't like that idea one bit and wasn't about to let her waltz up to some stranger and asking for help. Repeatedly, she reminded him that she was more than capable of protecting herself and besides, she had a 'really good feeling,' about this. _Whatever that was supposed to mean._

This had become their only serious source of contention in an other wise blissful relationship. Sure they still argued like they used to, epecially about who cooked dinner. For someone fixated on fridges and stoves, she sure didn't know what to do with them. Those arguements never lasted and only provided good excuses to make up. It was strange, he could barely remember the last time he had an actually 'girlfriend' and now he had moved in with a woman without a second thought. Their was no need for second thoughts; he wanted to be with her and that was all that mattered. Life was as close to perfect as he'd ever had. Getting rid of the touching thing, would be nice, but that bothered his_ cherie_ a _lot_ more than it bothered him. So this obsession with finding a 'cure' wasn't too big a shock. This was just a bad way to go about it, in his oh-so-humble opinion.

The lastest compromise had been she would look into the institute under a different pretense and check everything out thoroughly before any attempts at 'treatments.' It was then that he pointed out subtly wasn't her strong suit. She wacked him. But it was true, so now _he_ was now sitting across from Xavier and his mahogany desk in his mahogany paneled office. Letting just bit of his nerves show in a very un-Gambit like way. In any game, sometimes there was an advantage in appearing weak.

Today he wasn't Gambit, he was James Gordon, down-on-his-luck average (meaning no powers) mutant looking for work. He wouldn't say right away that he was a mutant, he'd fidget with his sunglasses and shy away from the lights, letting Xavier figure it out himself. Then he would ask if it was really true, what they say on the news, that Mr. Xavier thought mutants could live normal people. He wanted to gauge Xavier's reaction to that, see just how far his 'compassion' extended. Being identified wasn't a concern. It was a particular point of pride with Gambit that he had never been caught. Anyone who would recognize him, wouldn't be the type of person Xavier would know. And if Xavier did know, that in and of itself would be a very interesting development.

His ultimate goal, thought, was to make the good doctor believe he was harmless. If he thought that, Remy would be able to observe the situation at the Institute with being watched himself. Already he had found some other_ interesting_ things. While wandering the hallways after getting 'lost,' he'd noticed a couple of odd things about the architecture of the huge mansion that was the Xavier Institute. Things normal people wouldn't notice, but a thief trained to find hidden rooms and safes, would. His thief skills, another thing he had pointed out to Marie when they were discussing this 'plan.' But he remembered to duck that time.

  
The biggest revelation of the afternoon; when Xavier started talking, Remy felt the annoying scratching in his brain that signaled a telepath. This wasn't a good development for someone trying to lie. Gambit hoped that whatever it was about him that kept telepaths from reading his mind held up. The telepathy, though, would explain why Xavier was so unbelievable supportive of mutants. And the hidden rooms or passages could be hundreds of years old. But it showed there was more to the 'institute' then is let on publicly. All the more reason to be cautious in his mind. A silent inward sigh, figuring out this place would take longer than Marie wanted. His beloved would not be happy. 

  
  
  
_Bonding moments... _

  
"This would be perfect on you," Raven held up a fluttery looking blouse to show her daughter, who eyed it suspiciously. The jade green color was pretty, unfortunately all of the fluttery slits in the sleeves would leave a lot of skin exposed.  
  
"It's nice, but since you never liked Remy anyway, you probably _want_ me to put him in a coma."

"I never said I didn't like that glorified purse snatcher," was the response, seemingly without a trace of malice. Mother/daughter bonding time at the mall. Marie could only assume that Raven wanted to make up for lost time. The lost time being the mall obsession all girls in junior high go through. So they were re-living those days now. 

Not that Marie didn't like shopping, she was merely surprised when Raven mentioned it. Momma didn't seem the "mall" type. Surprisingly, but in a good way, Raven had lived up to her word. No more crazy destructive stunts or psychotic friends. They had talked several times over the phone and then met for lunch one day. Remy had insisted on going along. If it came down to a fight, she would have be fine on her own and would probably end up protecting him. But never try logic on an overprotective male.

These outings had started to become semi-regular, and it was fun. Except for the times Raven would get bored and go through a store pretending to be Marie's fourteen year old sister. Guess she couldn't help it really, being a shapeshifter it was hard for her to keep the same form to long.

"_Mother_..." Calling her 'mother' had come surprisingly naturally. The more time they were together, the more she remembered from when she was little. Even things about her adopted mother, which the girl did not readily tell Raven.

"Have I ever said I didn't like him?" all innocence.

"No..."

"Besides, he's been around you long enough, he knows the rules. If he gets zapped, it would be his own fault." She shoved the blouse over the rack, determined that Marie at least try it on. The face Mystique was wearing today looked a lot like Marie twenty years older. A very good twenty years older. In all honesty more like ten or fifteen years older.

"You sound just like him when you say that," which was true, but her mother did not look pleased to hear it. "I think he likes getting zapped, I don't want to encourage him." The only reason he took any precautions around her was because she didn't like it when she absorbed him. He wasn't bothered by it at all.

"I would have thought he'd be more _creative_ about your problem. I'm less worried about him getting zapped than in becoming a grandmother before my time."

Turning several shades of red, Marie ducked her head, pretending to closely examine the shirt in her hand. "I'm going to pretend I don't understand what you're talking about."

"You're the one _living_ with him." Mystique still didn't trust him, but if ever forced, she would admit LeBeau wasn't entirely bad. Her daughter could do _so_ much better, but it was pointless to argue. 

"You know it's not like that, Momma." Marie's head was still ducked, as she vainly tried to hide the crimson palette that was her face. She did not want to be talking about this with her _mother_ and for a brief second contemplated crawling under the clothes rack. Only that would bring a fresh round of "How could _my_ daughter be such a prude?" looks from Raven. Her mother might be very 'open,' but Marie considered such things extremely private. 

She hadn't even told Raven about her attempts to control her power. Barely mentioned it to Remy even. He thought she was only thinking about that doctor. Which she was, but she didn't want to leave that as her only option, especially since his institute was looking more suspicious everyday according to her undercover boyfriend. It didn't really matter though, as all she had managed was to do was continue to fail miserably. She didn't want to think of 'creativity,' she wanted his touch. _Was too much to ask?_ They loved each other, didn't love conquer all? Whenever he was around, she had much less trouble with the voices. Why couldn't that apply to her poison skin? 

"Anyways," desperately changing the subject, "I told Casey we'd meet her at the food court 'round two. She wants to check out Macy's and then she'll give me a ride to work."

Graciously allowing her daughter to wiggle anyway from the topic of her love life, "Is she the one with the kid?"

"No, Annie has the little boy. Casey is the one who can never find a decent boyfriend."

Nodded and feigning an interest in Marie's insipid human friends, "Well, that's because most men are stupid," she calmly observed and Marie stifled a laugh. Erik was one of the only men she'd ever able to stand. She still needed to figure out a way to get him out of prison. It would take time, he understood that. When that time did come, they may have some extra help. "By the way, if you ever get tired a carrying drinks to rich people, I could find you something-,"

Cutting her off quickly, "No, Momma. I don't want to get involved-,"

A somewhat defensive reply, "I have a lots of _legitimate_ contacts, too, Marie. Some in the government even." Her daughter still needed a lot of convincing, but was coming around, slowly...Marie was still very much against her mother's line of "work," but at least she understood why Raven did it, and didn't hate her for it. The 'old' Rogue would have, and also would have turned to her own mother over to the cops by now. The 'new' Rogue had a much greater appreciation of gray areas. Falling in love with a criminal undoubtedly helped in that respect, though Raven was loath to admitt it. 

Her daughter would remember Xavier and his brats eventually. It was unavoidable. When that happened Mystique had to have changed her mind just enough to keep Marie from running back to them, and out of her life forever. One day she might be able to convince her daughter to come home, to her real home. That day was very far off, but conveicable. She could even bring the swamp rat boyfriend with her. It would be worth it, to her family back. "I just think you are going to get bored of being a waitress eventually. You're probably trying to get Remy to take a 'normal' job as a janitor, or some nonsense."

There was mumbled reply, "...groundskeeper."

"What?"

A large economy sized sigh, "Groundskeeper. He's working as a groundskeeper." She left out the undercover and trying to find a cure part, knowing Raven would start in on how Marie just needed to 'practice' more.

Biting her lip and trying very hard not to laugh, Marie wouldn't like if she laughed. That was a terribly funny image. Mystique lamented the fact that her daughter was selling herself short, but it was almost worth it to think of that picture. The master thief reduced to mowing lawns and raking leaves. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
I was on vacation, I actually have an excuse this time. The story's still in transition working into the second half. Well, everyone gets their answer on if Marie will see the X-Men. You know it gotta be coming now. Everyone think of how many different ways this could end really badly. :) 

ishandahalf- I promise I'll get tough with that pesky plot. It is ironic about Mystique. But no one every said her mind worked logically. :) She has a "cause," sort of, so that make everything she does OK. I didn't know ladybug's could bite. My sister had a ladybug collection in the first grade. She kept them in her desk at school and made furniture out of easers and paperclips for them. Other kids would bring her ones they caught on the playground. She probably had at least a hundred. Until the day the teacher inspected everyone's desks. She screamed really loud. My sister couldn't figure out why her teacher was so upset. 

Caliente- Chapter nine is here with less of a delay than I usually have. The rest of the story is going to pick up after this point.

SeaWench-Thanks for the review. I love the psychological conflict in Rogue's character. There is so much potential there. I'm going to keep playing with it.

Alwaysright- I'm really glad you didn't mind the last chapter. I was a little worried about it. This one's a little the same, but the action will pick up soon. As if you can't tell. :) Gambit #12, another Star Trek joke, I had forgotten about that one, that's a good one too. Yes, New York is a big state, but it really is a small world after all. :) Ok, act surprised, you've just seen Gambit in Xavier's office. Think of what could _possibly_ come next. Sorry about the bad timing for the blackout, at least you had a very memorable birthday. :)

  



	10. Honey, I'm Home

_Honey, I'm Home... _

  
_Let's see...what do we have here?_ Marie was staring in vain at the contents inside the fridge. None of them had changed since she opened the door five minutes ago. The idea was to make a romantic dinner, but knew she couldn't cook. There were a few recipes she'd had a fair amount of success with; she was especially good with alfredo from a box with Parmesan cheese added at the end. It tasted _almost_ like it did at a restaurant. Nothing in the kitchen right now was sufficiently premixed for her to do anything with. Remy could. That miserable swamp rat was a genius in the kitchen. How'd he learn to cook like being borderline homeless most of the time? It wasn't fair. 

  
The refrigerator door swung shut once more. Maybe a nice romantic take out dinner? Nah, if she was going to do that they might as well go out.

The sound of another door opening, this one came from the front hall.' It wasn't really a hall, just a foot worth of linoleum before the living room. 

She called out as she started walking out of the kitchen, "_Bon jour_, _cher_." Remy always got the cutest silly grin on his face when she spoke French. No sooner had she made it a few steps than the object her affection enveloped in a death lock bear hug.

"Bad day?" she surmised from the strength of his grip.

"I'm going to kill those kids," he moaned into her shoulder.

Xavier's had turned out to be less of a research institute and more a home for runaway mutants, mostly teenagers and younger. For the most part, Remy didn't mind his job at the Institute. But some days the students were more..._energetic_. And they broke stuff, a lot. "Aww...poor baby." she crooned sympathetically and smoothed his hair down.

He didn't lift his head, but continued lamenting into her shoulder, "It's getting warm enough that we decided to start up the sprinkler system again and guess how many pipes are busted? You can't guess, because I haven't been able to count them all yet! I dug up half the grounds today and will be digging up the other half tomorrow."

"Well, that just happens sometimes in winter," she half-heartedly attempted to reason.

"Just happens...Ha! I bet I know exactly who did it too...Miserably little...." he trailed off muttering unkind things about whoever the student in question was.

This was amusing because Marie could just imagine what kind of trouble Remy had got into as a kid. "Like you never caused trouble when you were a teenager."

His head lifted up long enough to look indignant. "_I_ never had someone else to clean up _my_ messes. Had to do it myself..." more mutterings. 

Again, trying not to laugh at his pain', "Well, It's almost all over. That conference is next week, and then-"

"Next week? It's in two days. Next week is our anniversary. You've forgotten about it already," he said with mock hurt.

The six month anniversary of the day they met. "I did not! I forgot the stupid conference!" She shot back defensively as she swatted him in the arm. 

The 'conference' was a huge conference on genetics and mutant politics. Scientists and politicians from all over the world would be going to San Francisco for three days, including the headmaster Xavier and several senior teachers. With most of the resident telepaths gone, Remy figured this would be the best time to infiltrate the large basement complex that was a large part of the mystery of Xavier's. 

Having the run of the grounds, Remy had worked up a pretty good layout of the mansion, and whatever was in the basement was even bigger than he first thought. There'd still be plenty of other assorted mutants at the school, but it was the best chance he was going to get. Marie was more than a little nervous about the whole thing, but Remy insisted that he had pulled off harder jobs before. 

She couldn't help it; she loved him so she worried. He wasn't going to get away with that anniverary remark, though. "Just for that comment, I'm making dinner tonight."

A look a playful terror on his face."I didn't mean it. I'm sorry," and he caught her up into his embrace again.

"Ok, I forgive you." she said magnanimously. "We can go out tonight, instead."

That did sound nice, but, "It's kinda been a long day,-"

"Alright, I'll just see what's in the fridge-," turning and walking back toward the kitchen

"Is that a threat, _chere_?" he asked in all-seriousness.  
  
She turned and crossed her arms, "Do you need a threat to spend time with me?" questioned airly with a pretend pout.

A grin spread across his face, despite his best efforts. She was so cute when she pouted. She was so cute when she did anything.

  
_Starry Night...._

  
The sun had set already set hours ago, but if it hadn't, this been have been a stunning place to watch it. As of now, the view was stars set against the indigo velvet night. Also a nice view. Far enough away from New York that the diamond stars were unobscured by the city haze. Remy and Marie's apartment was in the city, but here was their favorite spot. A cliffside that over looked the county with the metro lights small against the horizon. They had found it their first week in New York while taking a ride in countryside.

Marie's had been in a good mood all night and it contagious. Remy had long ago forgotten all about pesky children he wanted to kill. Now his only concern was the few scattered clouds obstructing the view. They were currently stationed under a large, spreading oak tree, with Marie in front of him lounging back in his arms, her head leaning back against his shoulder. She had a bit of difficulty sitting in her dress. It was one of her shorter ones that Remy hardly ever saw her wear, but he wasn't complaining; she looked stunning.

"We should move out here. Then we could see stars like this every night."

"It be a heck of a commute for you, _chere_. I, on the other hand, could just retire' from my illustrious career." Commuting to Xavier's was pretty bad itself, but a necessary evil for the moment.

Softly laughing, "You volunteered. You _insisted_. I would have been perfectly happy to-," that train of thought derailed, as her boyfriend had started running his hands down her arm and kissing the side of her face, on the hairline of course. Involuntarily, her mother's comment about creativity' popped in Marie's head. Just as quickly, she shut it out.

"Mmmm...you're trying to change the subject," and he was doing a fabulous job.

Soft breath of his laugh tickled her ear. "Just don't want a beautiful night like this to go to waste," he said as one hand meandered to her waist. It _was_ a beautiful night, still a little chilly, as winter made its exit, but they were both oblivious to the cold right now.

Turning to him, she brought her face to his. "Close your eyes," she whispered with more than a little mischievousness in her voice and a grin.   
That earned a her questioning look, but he complied, wondering what she was up to. Then he felt it. She kissed him. 

He was surprised, but didn't flinch, because her touch was worth a little nap. And she had absorbed him once and didn't leave him, well, not for long anyway, so he wasn't worried. He was happy she was finally getting over her fear of touch. What took a few seconds to register was that he was still thinking all of these things. That meant he was still conscious. She didn't absorb him.

The shock of that thought is what finally caused him to open his eyes and break the kiss. Even under the shadow cast by the oak, Marie's face practically glowed, her smile beamed so brightly.

"Surprise," he heard in an understated whisper.

Still in shock and at a loss he stated the obvious, "You did it." 

Strands of two-tone hair fell into her face when Marie nodded excitedly, her already huge smile threatening to split her face in two. "I've been working on my control. I didn't want to tell you in case I couldn't do it. I didn't want to get your hopes up," words tumbled over each other in an excited but still near whispered rush. "Last week I finally started to get the hang of it. I haven't worn my gloves to work for the past two days. I was going to surprise you on our anniversary, but I couldn't wait."

Before he could respond, she leapt forward kissing him again and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. And he didn't complain in the least. In fact, he held her tighter. The fabric of her dress shifting under his fingers as he pulled her closer, if that were possible. The way he had wanted to do almost since the day they meet.

Her body shifted back a bit, separating them by a few centimeters, but she continued to drop fluttery kisses around his face and neck. Reluctantly, his grip loosened as she settled comfortably into the crook of his shoulder. Marie sighed contentedly, relishing the warmth of his skin. He didn't want to let her go, after being denied her touch for so long it was hard. And he wasn't sure if she didn't want to rush or if her control wasn't total.

She continued the explanation that had been cut short in her burst of enthusiasm,' a little slower now."I kept thinking to myself, what was different. What happened to make me lose control? How did the amnesia make it better? Then it just hit me, I had to forget to be afraid." Looking up, her eyes glowed as well as her smile, "Course, that's easier said than done...it still took me while..."

He matched her smile, "But you did it. I knew you could."

"Yeah..." her radiance dimmed a fraction, "I'm not sure how far I can push yet...so far, it's been working...I mean, I could try...but I don't know what I'd do if I hurt you again..."

It was little disappointing to hear, but he kind of expected that remark, "I said I'd wait forever for you and forever isn't looking as long as it sounds." and he meant it. Sometimes a mutant could take years to learn control, and he had been ready to wait that out.   


The radiant smile smiled returned and the mischievous glint returned to her brown eyes. Tilting her head back up to face him and see his luminesent eyes, she leaned in close. "It won't be forever," and she leaned in even closer.

_Alarm clocks_, that was the thing Remy hated most about his job. Getting up early enough to need an alarm clock. Well, that and the annoying kids... and that Monroe woman who left long lists about how to take care of the gardens, even in the wintertime, and...well, the alarm clock was the worst. One sleep heavy hand smacked the electronic torture device and it ceased being an annoyance. 

Beside him, Marie stirred and mumbled something incomprehensible, her small form lost in the blankets on his bed. When they were first apartment hunting, he had figured they would get a one bedroom. They loved each other, they were moving in together, why not? Marie, on the other hand, had wanted two bedrooms. She was very distraught about the possibility of zapping him in her sleep. Remy went along with her, but more often than not, he found an excuse to be in Marie's room. In his opinion, there really was no reason to be afraid. There were blankets, she had nightgown with long sleeves.

Last night officially marked the last time she had to worry. Long sleeved nightgown or not. The pile of blankets shifted again and an arm poked through, quickly wrapping itself around his waist.

"morning..." Marie mumbled as she buried her face into his shoulder, looking like she was going right back to sleep.

"um-huh..." mumbling back. It was too early for coherent conversation. Felt like it anyway. They hadn't gotten back home until very late last night, or early this morning. Stayed out late celebrating.'

"Still tired?" From her new resting place, Marie's voice drifted up still heavy with sleep. Another incoherent mumble was the only response. "You can call in sick. We stay right here all day." she said wistfully.

_What a glorious thought._ Moaning in protest, "I can't. This is the one day I have to go," but not moving yet.

"Today's that conference, isn't it?"

Finally crackng an eyelid open, "Tomorrow's the conference. But tonight is when Xavier and them are leaving."

"You don't have to go," she said quietly, almost plaintively. "We don't need that place anymore." A bare finger traced circled across his chest, proving her point. She was right, strictly speaking. His own fingers slowly danced up and down her arm. Her powers were almost completely under control, he could leave today and never look back.

Though he'd really like to do just that, "There are little kids there, _amour_. I don't think they're in trouble, but if something happened because I wasn't-,... I just want to be sure." his red and black eyes burned with an intensity, and sadness, not often seen.

Two slender arms wrapped around him. Feeling guilty that she hadn't thought of the situation that way, "Let me help you. I know,-"

"Subtly's not my strong suit." they both finished together.

Propping herself up to look at him and pressing forward still, "Sometimes you don't need subtly. Sometimes you need a battering ram. What if you find out something _is_ going on there? What will you do then?"

"The original plan was just to tell you not to go. But now...Don't worry, I won't do anything tonight, without my trusty battering ram." that earned him a half hearted, somewhat sideways, punch in the shoulder. "We'll think of something."

Resettling herself back to her original spot, "I just have bad feeling. Remember what happened the first time I kissed you?"

He smiled, even though being tossed off a building wasn't one of his favorite memories. "Your mom likes me now. So there's nothing to worry about."

"No, she doesn't. She only tolerates you because of me." Exhaling in finality, she looked up again, pleading in her brown eyes.. "Just be careful, please." The uneasy feeling was still there, but she was just being paranoid. A hand reach out, tangling in her hair and bringing their two faces together. _Don't worry_, an internal voice chided as she tried to lose herself in the kiss. _Everything will be fine._

  
  
_Half a Memory..._

  
This was break number seven in the sprinkler system. Seven down... lots more to go. Muttering curses under his breath about that popsicle kid, who was always running around with his snowballs and ice slides, never once thinking about the landscaping...Remy had planned to come up with an excuse to stay late and slip out unnoticed. Now he didn't need to think an excuse, he was going to be here forever. At least, this would all be over soon. Tonight he would discover Xavier's deep, dark secret or lack thereof and his time here would be done. Well, maybe not, but he hoped so anyway. Then Popsicle could freeze all the pipes he wanted and it would be some else's problem.

Xavier himself had already left for San Francisco. Summers, Grey, McCoy and supposedly Logan would be leaving tonight. That took out both of the major telepaths and plus McCoy, the people who seemed to be downstairs the most. Big obstacle out of the way. While he tried to avoid the staff themselves, Remy had perfected the art of learning a lot through second hand information and observation. 

Logan, he might duck out at the last minute. That would make things tricky, because Logan, sometimes called Wolverine, was a tracker and definitely one of the more shady characters at the Institute. Usually, though, he could only stay on the campus for so long before he ran out for a beer or something. Gambit would have to move then.

Two months he'd been here and Remy still wasn't sure what to make of this place. On one hand Xavier really did seem like a nice guy. On the other hand, there were a lot of secrets here and he was pretty sure one or two of the staff members were on the FBI's most wanted list. The kind of people Marie's momma' might know. But they didn't seem to be affiliated with Magneto. They were always talking about tolerance, harmony and all that kum-ba-ya stuff. Maybe they were a softer, splinter-type group.

That wasn't even the most interesting secrets of this place. To him, that was a story he had heard about a girl who had gone to Xavier's and had disappeared one day, about eight, nine months ago. How she had disappeared, ran away or not, he couldn't be sure. Nobody liked to talk about her. Like saying anything about her up was bad luck or something. From what he had heard, her and Marie's stories were similar. The girl sounded too young to _be_ Marie, but it was _interesting..._

Anyway, the task at hand was more important. With most of the senior staff gone, that left Monroe, a few of the newer teachers and the kids, The kids would all be busy with homework or watching TV, not a problem. Monroe liked to stay outside as much as possible. Would probably be in her precious gardens. Shaking his head in mild disgust at all the gardening he'd been doing in the past few months. After he left this place, he was never even going to look at another rosebush or lily again.

  
Logan was late for his last auto shop class. It constantly amazed him that Chuck had convinced him to teach. And it amazed him even more when the students called him "Mr." Logan. Most of them had stopped that annoying practice, but everytime there was someone new...He stopped suddenly as a breeze passed and then resumed walking again, slowly. 

Every so often he would catch Marie's scent on the wind. It always far too faint to be recent, but he would always stop for a second anyway as half a memory blew past. Only it didn't blow past this time, he stopped walking, again. It was still too faint to mean she was there. Was this a place she used to hang around a lot? It was just a section of lawn. Looking around he saw no benches, no trees for students to sit under and study or talk...Just grass...and some gardener guy, messing with a sprinkler....he kept walking, but in a different direction....the scent was incremental getting stronger....the pipe broke, the gardener fell back, not quite falling over...started muttering french? swear words...Logan kept walking...the scent was still there...not dissipating with the shifting air, like old scents do...it was still there...

"Can I help you with somethin'?" The guy had noticed Wolverine's approach and had stopped messing with the lawn to turn around...within a less than a fraction of a second he had transformed from auto shop teacher late for class to the brutal skilled assassin he pretended he wasn't. Gardener guy was pinned to the grass, two claws on each side of his throat, third awaiting the answer to the growled question, "Where is she?" 

A half strangled, "What?" was the answer.

"I can smell her all over you, so tell where she is and I might not cut you into tiny pieces, bub." 

Suddenly, the confused/surprised look on the man's face disappeared and was replaced by something much colder. "You have three seconds to starting singing, or-," he stopped. The sleeve of his flannel shirt suddenly began to feel hot. Looking over to his arm, the fabric had started to glow, a strange, almost pinkish color. His free arm cocked back to clock the gardener guy who was probably doing this, but his sleeve exploded and tossed him backward before he could. He registered the searing pain from the burns on his arm briefly, but only briefly. All of his attention was focused on charging his attacker. 

_Jean, get Cyclops, Storm, anybody!_ _Get out here!_ He sent a frantic message to Jean, she was mildly "linked" to everyone in the mansion. He could easily take this guy, would relish doing so, but he didn't want the little weasel to have the chance to get away.

Remy had leapt up from the ground the moment Logan started backwards. But he knew that wouldn't keep the 'teacher' down. Normally he wouldn't run from a fight, but here he was soon to be out numbered and surrounded by little kids he didn't want to turn into collateral damage, even if some of them annoyed the heck out of him. As ran the other direction and threw the piece of sprinkler pipe in his hand. It glowed the same strange pink color Logan's shirt had. Instinctively, Wolverine ducked as the pipe flew toward him. It exploded a few inches above his head, so the blast did little but singe his hair.

_Logan, teaches auto shop and self defense, also most likely to be a terrorist. Wonderful. Powers were enhanced senses and healing_. Snikt. _And those claws. _He still didn't want to fight here, too many kids around. But 'teach' didn't appear to hare the same reservations. It didn't look like he had much of a choice. He was also completely out in the open, nothing but lawn around nd a stitch of cover in sight. _This guy isfast, I have too be faster._ Logan got in a glancing blow, it didn't hurt much, but it knocked Remy across the lawn. As he slid, he grabbed at clumps of grass, charging them to slow down the maniac trying to run him down.

The ground under Logan feet blasted upward unexpectedly, knocking him back again. A good ten feet further than the last time. This last blast seemed stronger than the other, Wolverine thought to himself as he landed ungracefully on the grass. The guy was getting desperate. Good. Wolverine's clothes were completely charred by now and his skin was giving off a very unpleasant odor of burning. Anyone else would have been dead. He was just very angry.

Remy had scrambled to his feet and started a mad dash across the grounds. The other teachers would be here to back up Logan soon. He had to make it to his bike and get off campus before that. Did they know what he was up to? Was the hairy guy talking about Marie? He had to be, there was no one else he could have "smelled" on Remy. So she did go here, and now Remy could see why she left. The most important thing was to warn Marie. Tell her these people were after her for whatever reason. He would call her once he made it to the road. No way he was letting that hairy psychopath anywhere near her. 

Grabbing some cards from his pocket, he ran past startled kids on his way to the grounds office where his bike was. Tossed a few cards back to slow down Wolverine. On the edges of his perception, he registered several forms closing in on different sides of him. He dive rolled just as a red energy beam cut the air above him. At the same time, the prickling static buzz of a psychic attack enveloped his brain. Two cards went to the source of the energy beam, and he simultaneously tried to shut out the psi attack. 

Valuable half seconds were wasted when he countered the peripheral assaults. The original assailant, and his foot long claws, closed the gap Remy had managed to make. Logan lunged and the claws buried themselves in the ground where Gambit had been half a second earlier. Vaulting over Logan, and charging what was left of the man's shirt at the same time, he turned to see Summers with the energy beams. The first cards hadn't hit him, the next one did. Running again, but it felt something was tugging at him, slowing him down, as he did. He stopped suddenly and flipped backward, hoping to confuse whoever had him in their invisible grip. Likely Jean Grey, resident doctor and science teacher, and a TK/telepath. As he flipped, he threw another card toward her position and the grip disappeared. But no sooner had he landed, than the air burned and he was downed by a bolt of lightning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Da-Dum...clliffhanger ending. Will the X-Men finally find Rogue? Will Wolverine kill Remy before they have a chance? (play suspensful music here) This update was rather slow, even for me, but it's been a hectic couple of weeks.

I don't really know what exactly you can do with a garden during the winter, but Martha Stewart has a big long list, so I'm sure Storm could think of a few things. 

  
Rogue151- I fixed those weird symbols. I've never quite figured out how to save as html on WordPerfect. Italics always disappear. So I write in WP, than copy and paste everything to Dreamweaver and format there. I lost/and or gained a strange tag somewhere and everything went screwy. Stupid html tags doing weird stuff...

SeaWench-That was a good idea,( he did kind of recognized a couple of them) but I went with something more violent instead. Guess I'm just too bloodthirsty. :) 

Isandahalf- Poor guiena pig! :) I think Loin King sounds like a cool show, but guys in general seem to have a problem with any story involving talking animals. Lots of Romyness here. But just like last time, the big Romy section is followed immediately by a beat Remy up section. As for Rogue talking to Mystique, I think the Carol side of her has a lot to do with that. Carol was used to dealing with unsavory types from working with SHIELD, but she always knew she could fight it out if she had to. Rogue has never approved of Mystique ideology, but first and foremost, Rogue has been scared of her. Old' rogue would stay as far away from her as possible, just because she was afraid. Now Rogue still doesn't agree with Raven, but has no reason to be scared, because Rogue could kick her butt if she had to. So it doesn't bother her to talk to 'Momma' And don't worry Mystique still hates Remy. The not so bad comment meant that if she only knew him in passing, she wouldn't think he was so bad. But he's still not _nearly_ good enough to be with her daughter

Fleecy-Rogue beating up the X-Men that has lots of fun potential. And it's a tried and true comic convention. Remy's had his shot, maybe Rogue will get hers. :)

Kim-She lost the dogtags somewhere between New York and Madripoor when she had her first breakdown at the beginning of the story. Mostly likely they're at the bottom of the hole in Madripoor where she crash landed. You don't understand Da Nang? :) Boy, how bad of a speller am I! :) You would be the expert here, so tell me how you would spell it and I'll change it. The last chapter was short, this one is longer.

Caliente- You win the cyber no-prize for thinking of the Logan angle. Yes, Logan could smell Rogue on Gambit. It would be a weak scent though, so Logan wouldn't pick it up unless he was right next to Gambit. (Comic Logan might be able to pick it up faster, but all of the movie versions of the characters are just a little bit weaker) That's why it took him so long. Wolverine was never around Remy before. He doesn't hang out with the groundkeepers, go figure. :) Yeah, the X-Men are just out of reach. It's the hiding in plain sight angle, she's so close but they don't know that. 

Iluvangel- Thanks. Here you go, brand new piping fresh update. :)

Zeelee()- It's a puzzling oversight as to why one of best X-characters could be left out of the movie. So there is, tragically, a lack of Gambit/Rogue stories. At least the trend of Rogue/Wolverine stories is dying off (only to be replaced by Rogue/Bobby stories, but at least those make _some_ sense.)

  



	11. The Time has Come

_The Time has Come... _

Logically, Remy always knew getting struck by lightening must hurt. But he never appreciated the full scope of pain until he experienced it first hand. Beside the pain, it felt like he had been out for quite a while, he did know that, but not for how long exactly. Now he was listening intently to room around him as he pretended to still be unconscious. Unfortunately, his gracious hosts had been in and out of the room and hadn't been doing much talking. They were probably logically suspicious around him. 

From what he could tell without opening his eyes, he was in a room, not too big, judging by the echos. Since the students most likely weren't accustomed to seeing prisoners, he was guessing he was in the lower levels. The ones he had been so intent on exploring tonight, or was it already past "tonight?" How long had he been out? Long enough to be strapped down to a table with five point restraints. He could feel, or not feel, rather, that the area directly under his hands was cut away and his forearms had some sort of blocks underneath them angling his hands up. So he couldn't touch anything. From the fight, they must have thought he could only use his powers if his hands and fingers were touching something. A smile mental smile, that assumption would work very well in his favor. A few snatches of voices could be heard now. Xavier's goons were in the room, but not near him. Straining his ears as much as he could without moving, he listened.   
  
"I'm not saying I don't believe you," voice one sounded frustrated. "I just want to be sure that he couldn't smell like that from sitting next to her on a long, cramped subway ride."  
  
Speaker number two sounded angry as well. "I know what I smelled Summers," Summers, he was the one in charge after the headmaster Xavier. Working name Cyclops. "He smelled like her the smell way you smell like Jean in the morning." Speaker two's voice piqued oddly when he said that. Was that one Logan? "It was extremely close, prolonged contact. I don't know how the miserable SOB managed to get around her powers...But when I get my hands on him again-,"  
  
Number one, "Summers" interrupted and "Logan," who had been getting louder, quieted a bit. Probably warned him about potential eavesdroppers strapped to tables in the room. "...the Professor will be back soon, maybe he'll have more luck." Some more noise that couldn't quite be sorted into words...

"One way to find out," Logan's voice had picked up again. "Stop pretending to be asleep!" he growled unmistakably in Remy's direction. He almost flinched at the sound, being closer than expected and wondered if any more good could come of playing opossum. His eyes opened slowly, his best poker face firmly in place. 

Logan was glaring and towering over the table Remy was confined to. He had managed to find a new non-burnt shirt. "I asked you nicely, once," _that was nice?_ and now I'm asking again, where is she?" The shorter man yanked him up by his shirtfront, as far as he could through the restraints.

"I don't know who you're talking about," the words came out devoid of emotion. Trying to tell a convincing lie was useless, knowing that there was at least one telepath listening in. Xavier wasn't back yet, but Jean Grey was still there. Her form he didn't see in the room immediately, but his field of vision was limited.

"Listen you sick freak, if you've hurt one hair on her head..." With that threat, two of Logan's claws sprung out on either side of Remy's neck. The third inched out just slightly past the knuckle. 

"Wolverine has enhanced senses, but I'm sure you know that already, _James_? Is it? That's cute." The sounds of paper shuffling, Cyclops must have his personnel file. Probably the first thing they checked after the lightning took him down. The hairy guy with the claws paid no attention to what Cyclops said. Either he didn't know or just didn't care the Summers had figured out "James Gordon" was the name of a Batman character. The forger Remy got the ID from was the best on the East Coast, but a bit eccentric. It took him a good while to figure it out himself. 

He was glad he had the fake ID, though, with the fake address. They'd probably already been to his apartment,' the one that was across town from his real one. The one with Marie in it waiting for him to come home. Of course, if these guys busted down the door, she'd know he could use a hand. But then she might be here strapped down next to him, or restrained however they thought best to negate her powers. She was tough, but there were a lot of them. Or maybe it wouldn't that bad. Supposedly they knew her, but whatever drove her away from this place was pretty traumatic. And with the way hairy, crazy guy was growling, the X-crew could be the source of that trauma.

Cyclops continued talking. "You like to play games with people do you?" he didn't wait for a response knowing none was coming. "Don't bother playing your games here, Wolverine knows you were with Rogue recently, so don't bother trying to lie to us. We can settle this all easily if you just tell us where she is." Summers walked slowly toward the table, his arms crossed, looking almost as dangerous as Wolverine only in a much more subdued way. Idly, Remy thought to himself that if Summers was trying to play good cop, he wasn't doing it very well. Outwardly he said none of this and just continued to glare at the both of them and wondering about the name Rogue.' Rogue was the name of the girl who disappeared. Again, he could only assume they were talking about Marie. Rogue' was barely out of high school, though. Marie wasn't that young...

"Yeah, I'm sure she'd love it here. Such nice people, why did she ever leave?" His face stayed emotionless except for half of a grim, sardonic smile.

"She left on her own? You didn't have to kidnap her? " Summers sounding like he believed that as much as he did the name James.'

Remy leveled a look, as best he could from his current position, "I don't know what happened, but_ I_ didn't _kidnap_ anybody." His voice was getting hoarse and he wondered what his hosts' would do if he asked for a glass of water.

"I'm sick of your crap, bub. You've got til three, 1..,2..,"as Logan counted the middle claw inched its way forward.

"Since you asked so nice..."a grim laugh croaked out. His throat had gone completely dry and absurdly, he momentarily wondered if it was a side effect of the lightning strike. The middle claw inched out further until it was now touching his dry throat. 

Whatever it was about his brain that blocked out telepaths must still be working if they were bothering to ask questions. The third claw kept going. _Or maybe not_. A small, sharp pain shot through his neck. Warm, slow trickle of blood oozed down over his collarbone.

"Logan, stop." a third voice broke in admonishing and hand lightly but firmly pushed Wolverine back.

Wolverine barely glanced over at the other person, that Monroe women, also called Storm. Instead of looking at her, he kept his desperate gaze riveted on Remy, "Tell me where she is."

"He can't tell us anything if he's dead." Looking at the blood on Remy's neck, but Cyclops didn't sound terribly concerned.

Monroe spared Summers a glance and turned her attention towards Remy. "Please, Marie is our friend. We just want to know if she's safe. We don't know what happened. I don't care what happened, why you know her, how...All I care about is if she's alright." Storm was the first of Xavier's hit squad to call her Marie. "If this is all a misunderstanding, if she is your friend, she'll can tell us that." 

A very reasoned and impassioned plea. The cut in his throat wasn't deep enough to prevent him from speaking, but his voice was still raspy. He hd a very dark smile, "So, you're good cop.'"

She looked disappointed, but Logan growled and surged back in Remy's line of sight. I'll make him talk." All the claws were out now, but inexplicably he stopped mid-charge and cocked his head to one side. 

Summers picked up on that immediately, "What is it?" but then turned as if he had already figured out the source. Summers marched, yes, actually marched over to the other side of the room. Craning his throbbing neck up, he saw Cyclops pick up something small, and black...his cell phone. It was ringing on silent mode. Within two seconds, Remy realized he must have been unconscious at least long enough for Xavier's people to break to locking code on his phone. "Yeah?" Cyclops said, lowering his voice a bit. At least he didn't try a bad accent. "What?" his voice slipping back up in surprise. 

_Of Shoes and Ships and Ceiling Wax..._

  
Marie slept late, she had the dinner shift again and didn't have to be atwork til four. It was hard to extricate herself from the warm, inviting blankets. Before she had even opened her eyes she knew that Remy hadn't come home last night. Knew because she was wrapped in the warm, inviting blankets and not his arms. 

_He said he might not be back tonight, don't start worrying_...What he found would determine how long he would be gone. If he was there most of the night, he would just stay and pretend he was early into work the next morning. _He's just at work now_...That meant he had found something in that super-secret basement at the institute. And he was probably finding a way to do something about it. _He could have called me for help...subtly not your strong suit_, which was very true even if she'd never admit it. Right now, he's subtly trying too...where is he? _He's just at work_, he said he wouldn't try anything without me. _Maybe he got tired of listening to you whine every two seconds...shut up Carol. _

Whenever she was upset Carol or one of the other ones, mostly Carol, had to pipe up. _He'll be back before my shift starts, I can kiss him goodbye_, her heart involuntarily sped up at the thought of being able to touch him now...._he'll probably wait up for me to get home_...

Reluctantly, she dragged herself out of bed and headed for the door. About three in the morning and still not sleeping, she had moved to Remy's room and slept there the rest of the night. Slept there, that was, after she had rummaged around looking for ... she wasn't sure...plans for what he doing...even though he'd already told her that. Maybe a blueprint of exactly where he was at the moment. If she wasn't sure flying over there would blow his cover immediately...

Involuntarily pacing on her way to her room, she fidgeted with the ring on her finger. The one thing she did find while rummaging, in his top drawer next to Genny's necklace. It was a black opal in an antique setting with _pour toujours_- forever' engraved in the band. She should put it back now and act surprised on their anniversary. It fit perfectly, he liked to tell her that her eyes were like opals, it had to be her gift. _Or a trophy from another dead girlfriend...shut up... _she said unenthusiastically. It had been a long night and she didn't have the energy to argue with Carol. Therefore, she was trying the if you-ignore-her-she'll-go-away approach. Should put the ring back....but didn't want to. Being a horrible procastinator, she hadn't decided what to get him yet, she had better make it good now. Tiny flecks of color shimmered in and out of exisitence in the black stone. Hey, he kept her up half the night worrying, she was going to wear her ring.

He didn't get home before Marie left for work. Still nothing to worry about. _He'd call me if there were trouble._ If he had stayed at work, he wouldn't get home until after she left. _He told me he might be gone this long_... _He might be gone for longer, say twenty years of so wouldn't break my heart._ Studiously ignoring Carol, she made her way through the employee entrance into the kitchen.

There was the usual noise and bustle in the kitchen. Carol had still been pestering her, not getting tired and shutting up like she usually did. She tried stay focused, but Marie's mind wandered, despite her resolve to ignore Carol. Her voice kept coming through the hazy fog of whispers that settled into her head. "Hey, Marie!" called Casey from behind a rack of wine glasses. When her friend didn't respond, "Marie! Over here. You OK?"

Vaguely she heard a voice through the fog that was spreading to the whole room now. "Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. Didn't sleep well last night."

Marie continued to walk, looking dazed and fidgeting with a ring she was wearing. Must be taking advantage of being glove-free. "Is it that new medicine? I was on this cold medicine last winter that was supposed to make you tired, but it kept me awake for like, five days straight."

The fog was getting louder, "Huh?"

Half a laugh. "You really are out of it. The new medicine, for your eczema?" Right, the made up skin condition to explain her gloves and the miracle cure to explain why she no longer wore them.

"I'm just tired, that's all, " not wanting to discuss it, not being able to discuss it. Concentrate. Make the fog go away..._Yes make all voices go away, don't think about the people you've destroyed, as long as you can carry appetizers around everything's just peachy... _"Who manager on tonight?" This wasn't going well, she should probably fake sick and go home.

"Gary," the name was always accompanied by a look.' He was everyone's least favorite manager. _My luck is boundless,_ so much for going home, she thought as she grabbed an apron to help with the set up before she went into the dinning room to wait tables. 

Picking up a tray of glasses from one of the stainless steel tables, there was a shimmer, and then the table was a long, formal dining table, made of dark, polished wood...now..a small, white table underneath a window with breezy gingham curtain...then oak with six chairs and a little boy playing with his mashed potatoes..._Stop it Carol! ... Why is everything my fault? It's not my fault your no good criminal boyfriend left you and now you're freaking out...He didn't leave! He's coming back, he loves me!...Whatever, tell that to Genny..._

Marie had been standing in the same place for nearly five minutes. Added to that, her face was rapidly losing color and she looked dangerously close to falling over. "Marie?" Was that Casey? A tinkling melodic noise like breaking glass..._all of the windows in the train were shattering, their metal frames being peeled back by a giant invisible hand...screaming...everyone was screaming... a man floating in the middle of the aisle, arms out stretched, hurting...he was hurting, What do you what with me?"_ _he growled..._a voice broke through again. "Are you sure you're alright?" The melodic sound again, more glass...no...Casey leaned over again, her dangling earrings chiming melodically together... It's just Casey's earrings... Policy was only studs were allowed...

"Gary's never going to let you wear those." she pointed out irrelevantly. As if she wasn't having a break down in the middle of the kitchen before the dinner rush.

"What?" A cautionary hand touched Marie's shoulder to steady her. "I'm telling Gary you're sick."

An undignified scoff was the other girl's reaction, "That'll go over real well. I'm fine, Casey. I'm just tired." she said unconvincingly.

"You don't look good." Marie ignored her as she picked up the tray of glasses again and resumed her original course. _Screw subtly, I'm going to find him. Screw Gary, I'm leaving. I'll call Mamma first, see if she knows about these Xavier people and then I'm busting the doors down........... "America was supposed to be the land of peace, the land of tolerance," the wooden panels of the boat creaked as the waves past under them. She kept staring at the dead eyes of the guard lying on the floor of the boat. Tugging uselessly at the shackles on her wrists, trapping her there, while the gray-haired man droned on. Magneto was his ridiculous name. "Are you going to kill me?" The guards eyes stared blankly through her. "Yes." the man answered matter-of-factly in a emotionless voice. She tugged again, I need to get out of here. A blue figure glided behind the man to the front of the boat, barely glancing at her..... Momma? Is that you?_

The sound of breaking glass again, as a tray in Marie's hand crashed to the floor. This time she barely heard it, sinking to the floor with the glasses, kneeling on the shards. _Why would you do that, Momma?...Because she's such a kind and loving person...shut up...Maybe she finally got sick of ol' Remy, that's what happened to him...Shut up... "SHUT UP!"_

"Marie?" was that Casey again. _What was she doing here?_ "What's wrong?" Casey was talking quietly now, as everyone else in the kitchen were just staring in shock.

Not looking up at her friend, not looking at anything in particular, "She's lying. It's not true. She's LYING!" 

Casey nodded frantically in what she hoped was agreement, "OK, ok. She's lying, that's right, I don't believe her."

_Bang!_ The slamming door made everyone in the room jump. "What in the -," Gary couldn't yell like he wanted. The noise back here was already disturbing the customers, the yelling would have to wait until after closing. But his tirade stopped suddenly when he saw the looks on all of the faces in the room. Following their gazes to see one of the waitresses, Marie, the one with the funny hair, on the ground sitting on broken glasses. She didn't look...right.

The slam of the door had made Marie jump about seven feet off the floor. "It's okay, it's just Gary." Casey was desperately trying to reassure the increasingly erratic girl. She didn't seem to understand what Casey was saying. Her head kept swinging around erratically, searching for the source of the sound as she backed away from the growing, staring throng of people, hiting a counter in the process.. Instead of finding anything, she clutched her head and began muttering, "stopitstopitstopit.....Shut Up!"

_And Cabbages and Kings..._

"What?" It was hard to read Summer's expression with that visor on. Whoever was on the other end of the phone was talking loud, but not loud enough to hear individual words. One of his biggest problems as of late. Summers was answering in monosyllables, trying not to say much, still keeping his voice lowe. Marie wouldn't call him, she knew it would be too risky. The voice sounded kinda like Casey, she always talked too loud on the phone. But the voiced sounded panicky, rather than just loud, and why would she call?

Logan had a very intent expression. His sensitive ears could hear what was being said and his feral gaze found Remy again. "So are you still saying you don't know Rogue? Why is it that the paramedics think you'd know what new medication she's taking?"

_Medication? Paramedics?_ "What's wrong with her? What paramedics?" He strained against the restraints.

"Is there any medication? Or is that just another game?"

"It was how she explained the gloves at work and why she stopped wearing them. What. Happened. To. Marie?" 

A click as the phone shut and Cyclop spoke again, in his normal voice. "A psychotic episode. That's the paramedics theory right now. It could be a severe reaction to a new medication, but we know that's not the case, don't we?"

She must have had an episode' at work. But those had stopped, almost completely. The occasional nightmare was the only real problem she had. Definetitely not bad enough to call an abulance about. "Let me go!" Cyclops and company traded glances, appearing to ignore him, probably carrying on a psychic conversation amongst themselves. He badly wanted to blast his way out of here this second, but he was still outnumbered. "If she'd such a good friend of yours, you'd let me help her."

A very measured look from Summers, "This happens often? You think you can help her?"

Pulling uselessly against his bonds again, "Not often. Every once and a while the voices get too loud. Don't her friends' know about that?" he glared at the room in general again from his awkward position. "It's probably Carol making trouble." He just had to calm her down long for Carol to get tired out, but he wasn't sure how much of that he should tell them. They all exchanged looks when he said Carol.' and withdrew from the room.

"Jean, can he hear' us out here?" Scott thought it might be too risky to keep up the mental conversation too close the possibly psychic prisoner. 

Frustration visibly leaked through her words, "I have no idea. I still can't tell if he's a psi or not. His brain is like pure static, impossible to read. Between Rogue absorbing Carol's shields and her being around invisible boy, it's no wonder the Professor couldn't find her." 

Again, Wolverine was getting impatient with telepaths talking too much, even if it was Jean. "She was _kidnaped_ by invisible boy." Jeannie sounded too much like she might believe that bastard.

Ignoring Wolverine being counterproductive, Cyclops handing Jean the cell phone, "This is the number of Rogue's work. Trace it and go find her."

"I'm going too." Logan cut in.

Cyclops didn't even argue just nodded. Logan was closest to Rogue, that was a good idea. "Storm and I will keep an eye on our new friend and wait for the Professor. He should be able to make some progress with this guy's shields or static, or whatever he has."

"Rogue was only in New York and didn't try to get home. That guy's got her under some kind of mental control. That's probably why she's freaking out now. "

Nodding, "That's why Jean's going. She should be able to get through to her."

Storm listened to everything Scott and Logan were saying, but too much of this didn't make sense to her. Thoughtful she said, "I don't think this man is with the government, so how is Major Danvers involved? And I still don't see why he would take her to begin with. What would be the point?" 

"Take a guess," Wolverine growled and he spun on his heels down the hallway.

Echos bounced off the smooth metal walls. Both Storm and Cyclops watched Logan stalk away. Cyclops chose not to dwell on Wolverine's parting words and instead started back to the med lab and their 'charming' guest.

The door effortlessly slid open, revealing the lab. The examination table sat in the center with the restraints dangling empty off the sides, bearing what looked like scorch marks.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Another cliffhanger, but not really. We all know where Remy's going. :) Hopefully, this chapter is coming along better. I feel like I've kind of 'lost' the story somewhere. It doesn't have the same feel as before. Anybody notice anything, have any suggestions? I'm still going to finish it, I think I know how it's going to end, but I'm not sure how to get there. I'll stop rambling about bizarre forms of writer's block now...

Isandahalf- A little getting beat up couldn't kill Remy's romantic streak. He is a master thief and he _is_ using his master thief skills. He's just undercover while he's doing it. He doesn't just want to swipe painting from the hallway, he wants to find out everything about Xavier's, so he needs to do more than case the place. Yes, groundskeeper isn't the most glamorous job, that's part of his undercovery-ness. There might have been another way to do that, but the thought of Remy mowing lawns was just too fun. :)  
I was going to mention it in the last chapter, but the 'disappearing' girl in the story was called Rogue,' but then I forgot, but it is in this chapter. I don't think Institute people would want to talk about such a personal tragedy with a relative stranger, so info was hard to get. And he was kind of dismissing that story as a serious possiblity, both because of her 'age' and probably because he doesn't what to _really_ consider it. Marie does just _seem_ older, so she thinks she's older and consequentially, so does Remy. Both because of Carol and because life experiences. She was seventeen in the first movie, so she's eighteen by now, so Remy might feel a little funny, but not pedophiley. :)

Alwaysright1- Interesting rule. I like it, but its different when you actually have to write. This update was faster than the last. Don't worry, Remy's pretty face is fine. (Thank goodness.)

Samm16-Lots of people do cliffhangers, I can't be that evil. Was this fast enough, or am I too late?

angstwolf()- Ack, another person who thinks I'm evil. Writing cliffhangers is dangerous.

evanescence kicks ass()- She's getting really close to remembering the X-Men. I know I've been dragging it out. I'm trying to emphasize how something can be right in front of you and you can still not see it. I live in Utah and the Elizabeth Smart kidnaping was all over the news for _months_, poster and even billboards of the girl's face everywhere. And when the police finally found her, it turned out she had been in Utah for almost the _whole_ time with the crazy cult guy who made wear a veil. Literally, thousands of people saw her, but no one knew it was her. 

I have been messing with Rogue's age. Mentally though, not physically. Rogue is still a teenager, I figure eighteen going on nineteen, but she's been acting older. She thinks of herself as older, (because she's been through a lot for a teenager) so Remy does too. 

Mangamak()-Do they have a twelve step program for fan fics? :) I'm sure there's lots of things the X-men would like to do to Remy, but for now he escaped and has a reprieve, at least temporarily. Poor Remy, keeps getting beat up.

  



	12. Wonderland

_"Who are You?" the Caterpillar said. "I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, sir," said Alice, "because I'm not myself, you see." -Lewis Carroll, "Alice in Wonderland"_

_One Side Makes You Bigger..._

It looked so peaceful down there. Wet vapors of a cloud blew past Marie's eyes while she looked down. Picturesque rolling green hills, stopping at a cliff which dropped down into a crystal clear, sapphire lake. An elegant country manor house, looked like a dollhouse from this height. Tiny dolls spilling out, running around the grounds. All too tiny to see faces. Tiny, black dots of tiny dolls. Could they see her? A tiny black dot in the sky. 

Tiny, perfect sapphire waves from the tiny, perfect sapphire lake crashed into the cliffside. A cliff side, subconsciously she twisted her ring. He was down there somewhere, hidden under perfect postcard landscape. _Under a rock, he can stay there..._ How she got here she couldn't quite remember. She remembered flying, farther and faster...far enough away to outrun herself...fast enough so the wind rushed so loud there was no other sound.

  
_One Side Makes You Small..._

  
Casey had been camped out in front of the storage closet for what seemed like hours. Not really camped, more like pacing from a distance. The paramedics didn't like anyone hovering too close to the door. After Marie had run out of the kitchen, Casey followed her, but she locked herself in a supply closet. Annie called 911, Gary wasn't happy, but the dispatch operator didn't care. A bus boy had tried to push the door in, but Marie had crashed a large set of shelves in front of it.

Everyone had been asking her all the questions they wanted to ask Marie, because she wasn't talking. Well, she was, but mostly muttering and telling whoever it was to shut up. Was there a history of mental illness? Was she taking any medicines? What were they? Casey called Remy's cell, he should know these things. He wasn't much help, but said he'd get all the medicine bottles and call back.

The paramedics were still trying to talk to Marie through the door. She hadn't been saying anything for a while, not even shut up'. One of them was using a screwdriver to take the door off it's hinges, but they were still debating about if that was the best idea. Would forcing her out make her 'condition' worse? But they couldn't stand out here forever. There was a minor commotion towards the door where the kitchen went into the dining area, which was already a mess. Service was slow, the food was cold. Everyone had other things on their mind. And the patrons kept asking about the ambulance. Gary told they one of the waitresses had a seizure. Close enough. The whole dining room got free dessert for the inconvenience. 

The minor commotion, turned out to be two people pushing their way through the kitchen. "Where is she?" a dark, hairy man practically growled.

"Excuse me, you can't come in here," an EMT shouted. 

"We're family," a lady with red hair explained.

Casey couldn't remember Marie ever mentioning any family besides her mom, but she also said before she moved here, she hadn't talked to her mom in ages. So maybe these guys were more family she'd lost contact with. "Where's Remy? I called him-,"

"He's trying to get here. Stuck in traffic. Who do you think called us?"

"Did he get the names of the medications?" that was a blond paramedic who was impatient with everyone. 

"He hasn't made it home yet. He'll call as soon as he gets there." The red haired lady had a nice smile and Casey started to relax almost instantly. 

"Can you call her mom, tell her what's going on? I don't have her number."

"Of course," there was the nice smile again. "Is Marie in there?" inclining her head toward the door the paramedics were clustered around.

"She ran in here after the hallucinations started. She was hearing voices, possibly seeing things, too. Is there a history of schizophrenia in the family?" the paramedic said hoping maybe these people would be some help, as no one else had been.

"Not that I know of. Let me talk to her," she moved to door before he had a chance to answer. "Marie?" she put a hand against the door and leaned in close.

Out loud Jean called Marie's name a few times. Mentally, she scanned very closely knowing it would be hard to sense Rogue. But there was no mistaking, mentally Jean called to Logan, _She's not in there._

  


_Wonderland..._

  
More clouds. The wind swept them together, swirling around her, pushing them past. Making a fog around her eyes. A cool quiet fog. Quiet...The quiet fog swirled around as she sank. Not entirely meaning to descend. Not entirely meaning to do anything much. It was so hard to think, let alone do something. More like she was being buffeted about by the winds, inside and out. The tiny dollhouse grew bigger, as did the tiny dolls around it. Drifting a bit away from them, the dolls were more voices, too many voices already. Find Remy that was her only logical thought. One that she had to hold on to, keep it from getting washed away in the torrent of voices. 

Without realizing it, her feet connected with the ground and Marie was surprised to find herself standing on a beautifully manicured lawn. It was near the cliff, and the breath-taking sapphire lake._ He likes the view here, maybe this is where he is...no he's in trouble...have to find him... _While in her oblivious state, Marie completely failed to see an object streaking toward her. It connected with a thunk that didn't hurt, but knocked her over out of sheer surprise. Lightning reflexes finally kicked in and she quickly snatched up...a football? Sitting on the ground, she held the brown ball, staring at it uncomprehending. Flashes of different memories involving sports and games flitted through the ever present fog. A loud voice cut through it.

"Sorry, Monet! Didn't see you. Toss it back, will...ya..." A dark haired girl had come running toward her, shouting. Marie turned to face her, and the girl stopped so abruptly she pitched forward. 

Jubilee had been running to catch a wild pass. While she was running, all she saw was a girl with long hair and too fancy clothes flying. She figured it to be Monet St. Croix, resident Miss Perfect and girl who drove Jubilee the most crazy out of everyone in the school. So she thought it was quite funny when the football hit her. But as she ran to get the ball back, the girl didn't look quite so perfect, or so much like Monet anymore. And when 'Monet' turned around..."Rogue? ...Oh my g- BOBBY! GET OVER HERE!"

The sudden change in demeanor from the dark haired girl startled Marie from yet another one of her dazes. She scrambled to her feet and started backing away, still holding the football. It was one of the tiny dolls from the dollhouse. What did she want? Why was she screaming? Her feet started moving faster. Her first instinct was always to run, to get away from whatever...whoever...

The doll ran forward following her, "No wait! Don't go!"

"What are you screaming about Jubes......Rogue?" There was another doll was running towards her now. And another one...were they all coming...what did they want? She backpedaled even quicker...finally twisting her body around and running again. Not running for long, she hit a wall. A cold wall...an enormous sheet of ice had grown out of nowhere right in front of her, cutting off her escape route over the lake. Again she stared uncomprehending, her hands sliding over the surface of the ice. Confusion became frustration and then anger. And the anger found ready target. Her fist smashed into the ice wall. The dolls didn't want her to run, fine. Chunks of ice fell, some over the cliff into the lake, some on the ground. She caught one chunk and flung it, scattering the dolls to the sides. 

"Get away! Where is he?!?" They tried to trap her here, they must know something about Remy, why else would they come after her? _Maybe they know you're dangerous. Remember there are children here, they're trying to protect-_

"Shut up! I ain't talking to you!" she shouted at the empty air. Spinning on the dolls again, "Where is he? Where's Remy?"

Of course, none of them had any clue what she was talking about. The Professor hadn't told them many details about what had two days eariler. Just that an intruder had been caught. The fact that he had some link to Rogue hadn't been revealed yet, at least to the students. 

_Professor!_ Jubilee screamed mentally _Rogue's back, but there something wrong with her and I don't- I know Jubilee, _Charles had heard' her shock the moment the girl had seen Rogue._ I'll try and talk to her. Just stay back and wait for the teachers._ At last, he could find Marie's mental signature, though it was still a bit hazy. But there was tremendous psychic interference when he tried to communicate with her. He needed to get closer. Before he could, he felt a sudden sharp pain through the interference.

From the corner of manor house stepped a woman dressed impeccable in a white suit. Emma Frost had heard and felt' the commotion. She found a there was a figure a a white silk blouse and black linen slacks with long tangled hair. A small group of students were scattered around and their fear was palpatable. She looked like she was about to charge, so Emma flung a psi bolt at the offender. The girl wavered slightly, but didn't go down. That was not good, she should have gone down. She did recognize the assailant as the long missing student Rogue, but didn't care overly much. The girl was a threat, that was all that was important at the moment.

The whispers screamed as a lightning bolt split throught the fog. The pain was much harder to ignore than the voices, but she had too. To stop would be to drown in the fog. A spetral laugh floated around her. One thought, she had her one thought to concentrate on. Where was he? The dolls didn't want to talk, didn't want her to find him. If they wouldn't talk, she'd find out herself, Marie thought as she launched back into the air.

The one in the white, she was making the lightning in her head, Marie lunged for her. But another ice wall, smaller this time blocked her. She just smashed it too, while another one of them called out. "Rogue...Marie, it's me Bobby. Don't you recognize me?" That boy, that doll, his face...did she know him? She stared for a moment. _No...no...no_ The white one was gone, so she merely reached for the closest doll. The one with the black hair went down. The memories rushed in and added themselves to the cacophony of voices. Her flight faltered as she clutched her head, trying to sort through the voices, find something about Remy. She knew he was here. There was nothing though, nothing but more noise. She steadied herself enough to rise back into the air and charge at the white one again, only to be blasted sideways. Something else at the edge of her vision she had failed to notice. Only this time, the something wasn't a football, but a red optic blast.

Emma had succeeded making Rogue even more volatile, and Scott was at loss with how to deal with her. His only thought was to keep her from doing any more damage until the Professor got through to her. "That was just to keep you from hurting anyone else, Rogue. I don't want to hurt you. Believe me, once you come to your sense you'll thank me for it. Now let's talk this out."

That man was talking, what was he talking about? It was too loud...On the ground again from the blast, she raised one fist and then slammed it into the manicured lawn. The dolls wavered as the ground shook underneath them. "Where is he?" the one thought she had to keep from losing. "What did you do to him?" _Are you still wondering why they're attacking? _The spectral laugh echoed again_. _"StoP IT!?" she clutched at her head again and pulled at her hair.

"Is she talking to us or ..." she barely heard someone outside question.

She took to the air again, flying blind once more, just getting away. The voices, fog and everything vanished in a screech as a sharp, searing pain cut through her brain. She managed a short scream before blacking out. Her body plummeted toward the lake.

"No!" Bobby immediately formed on ice slide, catching Rogue after falling only a few feet. He glared accusingly at the woman in the white suit, "You could have killed her!"

"Nonsense. You were there to catch her," Emma said, brushing off Drake's hysterics.

"You couldn't know that for sure," he was still angry and not about to let it go. 

Emma ignored him and strode over to where Bobby was retrieving Rogue. Summers managed to beat her there, no doubt in rush to be overprotective. "She also still seems to have Carol Danvers powers, she would have been alright, Bobby." Scott reassured from the top of the cliff, as Drake slid back up his ice slide carrying the unconscious Rogue. Summers also shot a disapproving glance at Emma. "But the last time you tried a psi attack, it only made her worse. Let's hope that didn't happen this time."

"Oh? There's something worse than Rogue destroying the school and knocking out all of my students?" Emma icily replied. "Charles was clearly getting nowhere, and she needed to be stopped. Besides, I learned from my first mistake. I stopped playing nice." Cyclops decided to deal with Emma later, took Rogue from a visibly reluctant Bobby and headed for the MedLab. 

  
"She's been working there for two months now. Under the name of Marie Carol Adler, and living in Queens with her boyfriend 'Remy'. According to her friend Casey, her only relative, besides us, is her mother' Raven. We still don't know who that is. Maybe Gordon has an accomplice. She wasn't at the _real _apartment, when Logan and I were checked it, but I'm not going to worry about her until we've talked to Rogue." Jean was catching up the Professor. He had made it back shortly after 'Jimmy' had vanished. Cerebro had been enlisted to track Rogue and assess her mental state. Since they had an approximate location on her, Cerebro should work better this time. But it didn't. Obliging, Rogue had come to them, although not in an expected way. But she was here now, in a containment field in the Medlab and in a psychically induced coma, courtesy of Emma Frost, but here nonetheless.

Dr. McCoy was currently using all of his 300 plus pounds to keep the students at bay, which wasn't an easy task. They were all concerned for Rogue. And they were full of questions, which Xavier hadn't answered, because he didn't _know_ the answers.

A light rush of air as the medlab doors slide open to reveal Wolverine pacing in front of the containment field where Rogue lay. He was tracking the AWOL Gordon, but the second he found out Rogue had come back, he had taken up a post here and hadn't left since. "She's still asleep," he said unnecessarily. The point of the psychic coma was to keep her asleep until 'awakened.' "But twitching a little, like she's having nightmares. Let me talk to her. She'll remember me. I know she will."

Xavier looked at Jean and then back again then said gently,"We don't want to overwhelm her. She's in a very delicate mental state. It would be best if Jean were to contact her first, alone."

Wolverine didn't look happy, hardly unusual, but he didn't argue this time. Inwardly, he had to agree with the Professor's logic. If she'd been held captive by this guy, it would be better for a woman to approach her first. 

It took a few minutes for Jean to get through Marie's perimeter shields, they were obviously much stronger than the last time Jean had seen her. Once inside, the first thing Jean saw, or rather didn't see was a dense fog. With the fog was a hurricane, which should have blown the fog away, but mental landscapes didn't have follow logical rules. Here the winds merely made the fog thicker. The fog itself was made up of thousands of whispered voices. Screams came on the hurricane winds. Between the noise and the darkness, Jean could see exactly why Rogue's mental state was so bad. Being a telepath, she could hopefully bypass this psychic morass and center herself directly on Rogue.

She ended up outside a small cabin which stood determined against the gales, but looking very shaky. It was shuddering with every wind. Quickly, she rushed in the door and was barely able to shut it again against the wind. Inside it consisted of only one room, sparsely furnished with a couple of windows on each side. A fireplace glowed on the far wall with an overstuffed armchair in front of it. The fire seemed to be the only source of light and heat in building.

"Mercy! chile, you trying to blow us all away?" a voice admonished. Rushing toward the door, was a heavyset, older woman with a multitude of braids and beads in her thick black hair. She immediately went to the door and from out of nowhere produced a board, hammer and nails to secure the shaky door. "Who are you anyway? What do ya want here?" Jean was eyed suspiciously by the would-be carpenter. The woman must be a protector persona since she was trying to preserve the cabin' which was clearly another shield of some kind.

A shield that wasn't going to hold much longer. Jean lightly touched the wall. "I'm looking for Marie. I know you probably won't believe me, but I'm friend." The wood that made up the walls didn't look that sturdy, but it was covered by some kind of thick, heavy varnish that held it together. Jean mentally questioned the Professor about it._ Is it some sort of 'psychic sealant'? _He answered_, Apparently, it's holding this place together._ Where the varnish was worn and crackled the wind forced streamers of fog through the cracks. Once inside the mists spread and wafted through the cabin slowly, whispering and shimmering with forgotten images. 

While still eyeing Jean suspiciously, the big woman called over her shoulder. "Marie, you wanna talk to dis lady? Or should I ask her to leave?" The last sentence implied that she wouldn't be asking.' 

The response was quiet. "She can stay." A voice came quietly from the overstuffed chair facing the fireplace. Though Rogue had spoken, there was no indication of movement. Very quietly Jean approached, while still trying to decypher the meaning of Rogue's mindscape with Charles. _The question is, who constructed this shield? If it was Gordon, then it would be shielding Rogue from her memories, if it was Rogue, herself, then it's just keeping the psyches out...._Charles pondered that,_ He had some hand in it, I believe, but most of the mental energy from the building feels like Rogue's own...Most but not all? Yes, it feels like Rogue built this place, but he's... reinforcing it somehow. He **was** reinforcing, anyway, the 'sealant' is crumbling now._

While Jean walked, a wisp of fog glided past with a child riding a bike. It faded in and out until the mist dissolved completely. There was Rogue curled up in the chair, an old, patchy quilt around her shoulders. Jean lower herself level with the arm of the chair, keeping her distance and gauging the girl's reaction. A particularly strong wind shuddered the cabin and the girl flinched slightly. 

The woman with the braided hair had followed Jean over and was standing on the other side of the chair. She rested the back of her hand against Rogue's forehead, like checking for a fever."You don' look so good, _petite_. Are you sure you want to talk to dis _femme_? She could be a troublemaker like de others." _Do you think she means the other psyches?... Probably, but she could mean other telepaths, who knows what's been happening while she's been gone._

"It's OK. I think I know her. And I'm just a little cold, that's all. I'll be fine." She said sounding like she was placating an over anxious mother. _Could this be her mother' Raven?_

Beads clinked together as the woman looked toward a window. "The storm's never been dis bad before. Dis poor place is falling part. Don' ya worry none, chile, I'll take care of it," she stood up and turned around. Pounding echoed through the room, as the woman went to work on another breach in the wall. 

Warmth of the fire crept out along the floor. Inside the flames, more images flickered and sometimes drifted out with the smoke. _Rogue dropping a tray of glasses and holding her head... In a bedroom talking to Gordon, Just be careful, please," she pleaded._ And they kissed. Gordon wasn't effected at all by herpowers_. Did you see that Professor? _ Out loud Jean only said quietly, "You remember me?" Out of the corner of her eye, she still looked at the two people in the flames.

Marie's face reddened. She stared intently at the fireplace, it shifted back to faceless flames momentarily. Only then did she answer, "Think so, Jean, right? I'm remembering a lot now," her eyes went down, still feeling awkward. Nervously, she pushed a few stray locks of hair away from her face. 

The older woman continued, still in hushed tones, "So you know we don't want to hurt you? We're your friends here."

Still not looking at Jean "Yeah, I'm sorry about before, I didn't remember..."

"That's alright. We just glad you're back, even if you were in a little bit of a bad mood." she tried to be light hearted. Marie didn't really respond, just continued to stare at the fire, the only source of warmth in the house. New figures shimmered into existence, ones Jean didn't recognize. "I know you must have been through a lot in the past months, but you're safe now. If you want to talk about what happened, or just anything, I'm here. You remember that I'm good listener right?" She decided on a a slight change of subject, as Rogue didn't look inclined to continue the old one. "Is that Raven?" Jean asked inclining her head to the woman who was nailing another board into the wall, as mists swirled around her wrists.

Marie eye widened in surprise, "Umm...no. That's Mattie. She's Remy's aunt. I absorbed him once, on accident and ...How did you know..." her eyes then dropped and she fidgeted with a tiny tear in the quilt, avoiding Jean's look.

_Remy's aunt?_ _So that's not one of **her** protectors._ "You're friend Casey. Logan and I went to your work when we heard you were sick." 

"Did Cerbro pick up on that?" she looked up curious how they knew where to look for her, and a bit suspicious. 

"No, Casey called Remy,' is that his real name? We were questioning him about you and Scott intercepted the call. 

Suddenly, Marie got very agitated, "Questioning? Oh no... I was right, I can't believe this-,"

"It's ok, Rogue, he can't hurt you anymore."

"Hurt me? Listen, I know he was probably being really stubborn and uncooperative, but he was just trying to protect me, even though I can take care of myself, that's the whole reason he was at the institute to beginning with, it's just an overprotective guy thing, I'm sure Scott does the same thing," she was rambling but didn't notice or care, "I know you've got him locked up in the danger room or some place because he won't tell you where I am, but I'm here now, so you can let him go and tell him I'm here too, because I know he's really worried,- You have to let me talk to him. Wake me up now."

"You're still sick Marie," a huge wind gust shook the walls to emphasis that point. "And he's not here. He went looking for you."

Rogue stared incredulously, "Well, then wake me up and let me call him!" 

"You're not coherent when you're awake. How about the Professor calls him?" she reasoned_. Is this really possible, Professor, or could his control not have faded yet? _Xavier was perplexed as well,_ She feels...utterly sincere._

"But you have to use my phone, he won't answer if the school's number shows up," she had finally gotten out of the chair, but it was only to pace and hold her temples. Curiously, the storm outside picked up at the same time.

When she started rememering the Institute, she had stopped worrying so much about Remy. Because she knew, even if they did catch him breaking in, they wouln't hurt him. She hadn't considered them thinking Remy had hurt_ her_. Wolverine would kill him. Wolverine had better **_not _**even**_ touch_** him.

Jean's eyebrows knitted together,"You didn't have a phone."

"What? Of course I have..." her phone was probably at the bottom of Hudson Bay or smashed against the wall of the storage room at work. 

"We'll use Storm's phone. Remy won't know that number." _Well, we want him back here one way or another, why nor see if this works? _Jean reasoned with the Professor.

Conceding the point, "Alright. Where is the Professor anyway?" her head swivelled around looking, "I thought he'd be the first one in here trying to straighten out my head."

Jean might have been surprised, but not after the last few minutes, "We didn't want to bring in too many people at once."

" Fraid I'd freak out again?" with half a wry smile.

"Yeah, kind of. He been here the whole time, just staying out of sight."

"The more the merrier, right?" not without a bitter irony. "I got room for one more. Storm can call Remy herself. And you tell Wolverine if he so much _touches_ Remy, I'll will knock him back to Canada, personally."

Holding up her hands up placating, "I'll tell her right now, I'll tell both of them." 

"WHAT?" Wolverine said to nobody in the room, since Jean and the Professor made no reaction, both still being in the astral plane. "That's crazy, You know he's got her under some sorta psychic control." _If that's true, we really need him alive to figure out what exactly he did, because it's **very** effective. Just tell Storm to call and play along with her for now. _

"How is Storm supposed to call him? We still have his phone."

_She can try the apartment and tell Emma to keep trying with Cerebro._

"Lotta good that contrapation's been so far..." he angrily mumbled.

The Professor shimmered into existence beside the arm chair, "Hello, Marie. It's good to see you again, we've been worried," he used his understanding-grandfather-voice, even though he was as confused as Jean as to what was going on.

From a few feet away Mattie exclaimed, exasperated, "Another one? For heaven's sake, why do I bother with the boards?"

Over her shoulder, "Sorry, _Tante_. He's with Jean," then turning back, "Sorry about worrying you, Professor. I didn't mean to..." realizing she was apologizing a lot, she trailed off not quite knowing how to finish that sentence. Instead she went back to the topic that was bothering her most,"About Remy, I mean Jimmy, I guess that's what he goes by here, James Gordon. He works here, it's kinda a long story and all...But what happened _wasn't_ his fault."

The professor assumed his best let's-pretend-I-believe-you expression, "Can you tell us what _did_ happen?"

"No," she reluctantly replied and started pacing again. "I still don't remember that. I remember everything else, _but_ that. I was walking into town...and the next thing I remember was walking again, but there was snow and Carol was there, inside my head. I don't know what I did to her." Memory flashes flitted through the fireplace flames. ... _Running from Carol's voice, flying faster away, a hole in ground in Madripoor...A stranger inquiring about her health in Chinese... _

"Concentrate on what happened while you were walking,"

Crackling flames flitted again, and flitted back. The fire burned. Marie shook her head wearily, rubbing her temples,"It doesn't matter. I should go find Remy." 

"Marie, would you like us to help you?" the Professor said reassuringly. She shrugged incremently, not feeling hopeful. Jean and the Professor focused their mental energy toward her trying it elicit the lost memories. It was difficult even this close. Her mind was still fractured sand closed off. The fire flamed higher..._it was dark, that was all, dark, someone screaming, a dark screaming place, dark again..._and then that was gone too. "Sorry, Professor," Marie shut her eyes and leaned back in the chair again.

A different track was needed. "You do remember coming back here, briefly?"

"Yeah, I was back on the road to Salem Center, and then I got all confused with Carol, so I took off. _...How? Why? Westchester? What am I doing in Westchester, New York!?! Why wouldn't I be...I told you to shut up already!..._ And then I ended up in Madripoor.

Charles steepled his fingers, "Why there?"

"I was just flying blind. Probably went around the whole world at least once. Madripoor just happened to be the place I crashed when I finally wore myself out. I couldn't remember myself after that. I think I wanted to forget, so I could forget what I did to Carol. Ever heard of something called a fugue state'?"

"Yes" the Professor said encouragingly. While he was talking to Rogue, Jean realized she hadn't heard any hammering for a while. Craning her neck, she looked around for Tante Mattie.' 

Marie didn't notice and continued her story, "Remy thought that's what it was." The flames flared a bit showing Gordon-"Remy" at a laptop showing something to Marie and she started talking about french fries. "He tried to help me find out who I really was, find my way home. I'm the one who kept putting it off, or thinking of something else. I'm the one who didn't want to find out. All he ever did was try to help me." She was spending a lot of time trying to defend Remy. "You two are the telepaths, you can see for yourselves."

"Actually, it's extremely hard for either of us to read you're mind. Even now." Marie looked perplexed. "The storms' outside act as interference, and Major Danvers had formidable shields herself, which you absorbed."

_He did find out that the military agency, S.H.I.E.L.D., had an all points bulletin out for one of their agents, a Carol Danvers, but she turned out to be a blond, a good ten years older and three inches taller than his chere. _

She'd never made the connection before, how could she have missed it? "Major...She was in the army...no, the air force," she remarked almost dreamily. _She seems more preoccupied with Carol than any of the other psyches. Makes sense, she would probably be the strongest of them all._ "I didn't remember her at all at first. I didn't want to think about her." The fire flickered into what looked like a street fight with the Brotherhood, minus Magneto, while an enormous wind blast rocked the house. Felt like it was going to blow over, while phantom Marie ran from an unconscious phantom Remy in the shuddering flames. 

Ear splitting crack thundered. A window blew out, the boards covering it disintegrated into splinters. Shards of glass flew past, some embedding themselves into the far wall. Mattie, the would be carpenter and protector of the shield was no where to be found. Almost simultaneously, the front door gave in. It practically exploded in a shower of matchsticks. The protective measures in Rogue's psyche were collapsing. Gale force winds continued to rip away the front of the cabin. The Professor quickly threw up a make shift psychic barrier to keep them all from being blown away by the forces disintegrating Rogue's mind. With the temporary shelter, the deafening roar of the wind lessened and the dust and debris previously whipping around the cabin settled to the floor. 

Jean had only ever seen Major Carol Danvers in her hospital bed, with a pale, fragile countenance. Her psychic persona, unencumbered by her physical state, was much more formidable. She was likely the driving force behind the destruction of the first shield and had made it inside before the Professor's new shield went up. She and Charles could try to force her out now, but that would just be a delaying tactic. She had to be dealt with eventually, or she would just keep tormenting Rogue.

Maj. Danvers looked squarely at Rogue, ignoring all other presences."You remembered, I'm touched," she remarked with utter insincerity. "And you've brought some new friends," she casually said after surveying the room. "That's not fighting fair, but what else could I expect?" Military issue boots thumped as she took a few steps forward. Though looking quite a bit worse for wear, she was still in uniform. Danvers had been in civilian clothes when she was found, and probably when she was disappeared, but this was the psychic plane. What mattered was how Maj. Danvers thought of herself. Khaki colored camouflage BDU's, the jacket was gone, lost in the storm and most of her long blonde hair had been pulled free of the braid holding it back. The battle torn but resilient solider.

"Hello, Major Danvers. My name is Dr. Char-,"

"Charles Xavier. I know who you are. Your one of the talking heads that shows up on CNN every so often going on about the mutant situation.' A few guys in intelligence thought you might have mutant connections. I didn't believe them, but I guess they were right," she shrugged as if that didn't matter much.

Still attempting to play peacemaker, Xavier continued, "It's a cause I care about a great deal."

"Then why are you helping her? She attacked a mutant," Carol pointed out logically.

"I want to help both of you." 

Her eyes narrowed to slits, "Then get out of my way and let me finish this." Rogue made no reaction to the obvious threat. In fact, the girl had been conspicuously silent throughout the entire exchange. Carol continued walking and Marie only looked at the ground, playing with her hair. Jean edged toward her, if there was trouble, well, more trouble, she didn't look like she was even going to fight back

The Profesor kept talking, "What happened? Why do you think she attacked you?"

"Ask your little friend," but with a slightly uneasy look.

"You don't remember, either. Do you?"

The uneasy, uncertain look remained. "There's only one way I could have ended up here. I spent enough time in her sorry excuse for a mind to know how this works. She stole my life. I don't know what fairy tale she's told you-,"

"She doesn't remember either." Carol's uncertainity became disbelief as she looked back at Marie, wondering how no one could know what happened to her. 

Weakly Marie's voice was heard, "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to..." she trailed off, knowing it was pointless. She had been standing beside the chair, but her legs gave out and she now started to sink to the ground. Jean tried to support her, this wasn't good. She was giving up. Jean and the Professor wouldn't be able to fight Carol effective if Rogue wouldn't.

"Sorry? Oh, alright then, that makes everything better. That makes me not dead!'

The Professor looked at her evenly with a light of hope, "You're not dead."

"What?" slightly surprised.

"Whatever happened with Rogue, didn't kill you, it left you in a coma instead. You're in the long term care ward at Walter Reed Medical Center. I've been helping with your rehabilitation. Your friend Colonel Fury asked for my help. Some good progress-,"

"So I'm not dead, I'm vegetable. That makes me feel a whole lot better, Chuck," she interuppted derisively. 

"Stop. Professor, Jean I know you're only trying to help me...but just... stop. Ok? I did steal her life, whether I meant to or not. I've been hiding from that, but I can't do it any more. It only fair...she should get another chance." teary eyed she pleaded.

The professor looked down this time and Jean put a hand on Marie's shoulder. "It doesn't work that way. This is _your_ mind. Carol can influence it, maybe control it for a short time, but it is still _your_ mind."

"Look at this," Xavier gestured to the chaos raging outside the shield. "You didn't just forget about Carol to not feel guilty. The conflict of two personalities existing in the same mind was tearing your psyche apart. That's why you made yourself forgot her. You created a new life using elements from both of you and forgot' anything else that didn't fit." 

"Which was everything." Remy had been right the whole time about the fugue thing. 

Recalling the earlier memory of confused Rogue flying to Carol's old apartment. "You let her be in control at first, didn't you?" Mutely, Marie nodded. "It didn't last for long, because it can't. You will _always_ be the dominant psyche. You didn't want to remember because that would shatter the delicate balance your were trying to maintain. But that balance couldn't last either, because it wasn't natural. I'm surprised these shields lasted as long as they did." The shields were a makeshift construct of Rogue's desperate subconscious, they should have fallen apart within days. 

Indignantly, the major interrupted, "So what exactly are you trying to say Xavier? She killed me, but feel bad for her because I had the audacity to fight back and gave the poor dear a headache?"

"Carol-,"

"No! Don't call me 'Carol' like we're friends. _She's_ obviously your friend." She was clearly, and not unreasonably frustrated. Months worth of feelings she couldn't express, tumbled out. "You talk a good game about kindness and tolerance, and everyone getting along, but you don't really mean any of it. I have done more for mutant human relations than you will ever do. _She_ took down a federal agent, that's great for mutant relations! I _earned_ my place on special forces, I _proved_ that I could be trusted. Don't you think there were plenty of people who thought a mutant couldn't be entrusted with sensitive missions or information. But I worked and showed all of them that I could. I have protected heads of states, I've stopped wars. And now, now I float around the psychic ether while, she uses my powers to shelp drinks around and play house with a wanted fugitive! Is that your dream, Professor?"

"Of course not. But you cannot function in Rogue's mind. It would destroy both of you."

"At least it would be over," she said quietly, her anger simmered just below her voice and added to it now, a bitter note of finality. The hurricane outside tripled in its intensity. That wasn't Carol's power, but, again, this was the astral plane. Charles raised a hand to strengthen the battered shield. Beside him, Jean whispered desperately, "You have to fight her, Rogue."

_Rogue_, it had been a long time since she'd heard that name. Shaking her head, "No, I can't kill her again." 

"That's _not_ Carol. It just a copy of her personality, like all the other psyches in your head. The real Carol is in Maryland and killing yourself won't help her!" 

Carol floated off a few feet above the above ground and dropped suddenly back down. Her fists pounded against the cabin floor, with all of her strength behind them. A move eeriely reminescent the one Rogue had used outside. Shock waves rocked the already ricketty structure. The walls started to crumble like the front door had. The Professor had to strengthen and extend the shield at the same time. Mists eased their way in. Taking advantage Xavier's distraction, Carol lunged for Marie, knowing that she was the lynchpin and the weak point at the same time. She backhanded Jean on her way, but the woman didn't go far. "Let her go!"

"No." she said plainly. Carol had Rogue by the throat dangling in the air. "This is going to end. One way or another. Now."

Jean and the Professor both stayed close, but held their positions, hoping Marie would finally decide to fight. Like before she could feel them channeling their power to her. She still didn't want to, it still didn't feel right. Carol was only defending herself. She supposed they would have to try something if she didn't. This had to be her fault, even if she didn't know how exactly. But Jean was right, killing herself wouldn't help Carol, the real Carol or the one stuck in her head. 

A layer of fog now covered the floor with more seeping in. Was the Professor letting them in to try and motivate' her, or was she doing it, by giving up? More mists appeared, seemingly coming through the shields. She could hear their whispers roaring over the din outside, as her vision began to blur and darken. Losing air, she thought to herself. Even though this was her mind and she didn't strickly need to breath. What was important was what she thought should happen. People tended to think of their psychic selves the same way they thought of their psychical bodies, those who ever had the opportunity, that is. That was why the Professor thought that it was so important for Marie to fight Carol herself.

The images sprang up and faded back. She watched the pictures, Wolverine in a bar fight, David playing catch with his little brother, all of the people in her head. There were so many of them, when did she absorb so many people? It would be easier this way, it would be penance of a sorts, but it wouldn't help any of the people she had hurt, it wouldn't make Carol live again. Vaguely she wished that Remy were here. This was always so much easier when he was there. Would he understand? _"That won't change. None of your reasons' will ever change that. If you love me, don't leave me, ma cherie." _

He would understand, with his past, he knew about penance. But he would hurt, a lot. _She_ would hurt him. Jean, the Professor and the rest of them. She'd hurt them, too. Still dangling from Carol's iron grip Marie whispered, barely audible, "I'm so sorry." All the mists in the house gathered toward the two of them. Whispers grew even louder as they converged, becoming the crashing of waves. People and images floated up, jumping, drifting. They drew to Carol. Ebbed and flowed around her. Clinging to her like wet shadows. At first, she didn't notice, too much other noise and interference. And then when she did, there was brief shock, fear, but only for a second. Then there was a sort of detached interest. She actually didn't look angry anymore, the whispers roared into a tidal wave. Crashing into and drowning everything around them. And quickly as it had begun, the sound faded, and with it, the storm outside. The ghost of Carol Danvers faded with them into the quieting dust. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, I was late updating, I am sorry, but I think I made up for it in length. That was, I think, twice as long as any of the other chapters. I played around a bit with the 'laws' of astral plan I think. But hey, it's the astral plan, 'laws' are flexible. And as for Tantie Mattie, I thought since Rogue didn't have a protective mother figure in her life, (Mystique _really_ doesn't count as a 'mother' figure, and Rogue's not happy with her at the moment anyway) so she might borrow Remy's. Mattie does have that much stronger cajun accent I didn't want to write Remy with, because it was too over the top. But she's old, she's lived in New Orleans her whole life, I thought she concievable could have a much stronger accent. 

I think I figured out the problem I was having with the story, I think it was the pacing. Some of the chapters probably need to be combined or reworked. But I have now idea when I'd have time for that. ;) So I'm just going to finish it, and maybe play with the chapters some more later, if I have time. I promise, no more whining about that. On to the reviews, thank you so much everyone who reviewed.

*()- Oh yeah, she had plenty of incentive to beat up the X-Ment. I wanted to have her beat up more of them, but I couldn't quite work it in. And she wasn't exactly figting in her top form thanks to her ongoing nervous breakdown.

evanescence kicks ass()-Absorbing Carol was a little of it, just not all. I was having pacing problem. I think I figured out my writing problem, thanks for your encouragement.

AngstWolf()-My grandma was stuck in that fire, she didn't have to evacuate, but it was pretty freaky. She didn't mention the 4 horseman though. She doesn't have your imaginaion. :) I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. I had a project for work to do. But this chapter is super-sized. Your second review kicked me into finally posting this chapter and stop tweaking.

ishandahalf-Happy Birthday! I think topaz is pretty, but does only go with certain things. I did _not_ know that about opals. Maybe they really are bad luck! Poor Remy, first he gets beat up then hears his girlfriend's having a psychotic episode. Not having a good day. And yeah, just because the X-Men thought Remy kidnaped and brainwashed Rogue that no reason to be violent. Can't we all just get along? :) Yes, Remy finally got a chance to use his master theif skills. He's just so good, that he knows when not to use them too. ;) This is another of those chapters with no direct Romyness, too many other things going on. But there always has to be some! I was so not a bunny on crack this time. I was a bunny on Valium with a broken leg hobbling around on crutches. :) So sorry.

akaineko-You were right about Carol getting stronger and taking over. That's exactly what she was doing. Thanks for the suggestions. They're always helpful. I liked the idea of Logan and Jean beating Remy there, but then I thought 'crazy' Rogue wouldn't actually wait around for either one of them.

Cherry13-Thank you so much. My update was a little late, but it's longer this time.  


Samm16-No direct evil cliffhangers here. But a little still unresolved plot, but it's not the same thing! Honest! I'll _really_ try to be faster with the next chapter. I'm not _trying_ to drive you crazy. :) 

Jukebox-Wolverine definitely wants to get a hold of Remy again, but Rogue will something to say about that now. Remy would have been able to calm her down, but Xavier and Jean were the ones the get there first. Well, not first, there was that whole debacle with the students and Emma failing miserably, but they got to her before Remy.

roguelebeaux003-I like Carol. I was trying not to make her seem to villian-y. The Rogue/Carol episode of the old cartoon was what got me into X-Men and comics in general.

theshadowcat()-I should have known that about the snow. I lived in Michigan for a while when I was little. It could snow in September, but that would be rare. Guessing same goes for Canada? Well, I didn't actually mention snow in that section so I'll just changed the title. And I do know that Canada's not into massive military and weapons projects. That part I was adapting from the comics. I actually had a fun little conersation with Muccamuk about that at the beginning of the story. In the comics Canada has spies, super-soldiers and all sorts of covert stuff. They were the ones running the Weapon X project that Wolverine was in. In X2, I think they just made it be an American project instead, which honestly, does make more sense. 

Pixie Flyer-Thanks for review. I glad you like the plot, I sometimes wonder if I'm paying enough attention to it.

star_of_chaos()-Next update is finally here, hope you still like it. :) 

  


  



	13. Beware the Jabberooky

_"Oh you can't help that. Everyone here is a mad. You might have noticed... I'm not all there myself... " Cheshire Cat, Alice in Wonderland_

_So that I can feel the rain... _

  
Marie sank to the ground, again, staring at the spot where Carol had just vanished. The house around her was still crumbling to bits, but the hurricane had died down to a light rain. Her arms hung limply and her shoulders slumped. The breeze would still gust with some strength occasionally, and pushed around a soft mist that was what remained of the fog. It also whipped her hair in her face, but she didn't do anything about it. A soft background murmur was the only sound coming from the fog now. The Professor's shield was still up. "Let it down," Marie said with very little emotion. And he silently did. She tilted her head up to feel the rain on her face.

"You did the right thing, Marie." Charles placed his hand on her shoulder and mentally felt' around the new, quieter landscape. Carol had been sent back to the background mists with the rest of the psyches, no long tormenting Marie. Much of the psychic interference had disappeared with her. The perimeter shields were still strong, she needed to build some new inner shields to block out the other voices when they got too rowdy', but all in all, he was very proud of Rogue.

Mutely, she nodded. It still didn't feel right to get rid of Carol, but she had no other choice. As she felt rain patter across her skin, she would admit, it did feel nice to enjoy the relative quiet once again. "You said she might get better? Maybe?" 

"Yes. Jean and I have been working with her. She is no longer comatose, she has shown response to certain stimuli. If you like, I could take you to see her." Since she didn't exactly have top secret clearance, he probably meant sneak her in.

"I don't think she'd want that," her voice still showing little emotion. Even with extra help from the two telepaths, containing Carol had been incredibly draining. Right now Marie was too exhausted to emote' or psychoanalyze this any further.  
  
Jean crouched down beside her, "It's up to you. Whatever you want to do."

Remaining on the ground, she just lifted her head, "What I want is to see Remy. Has Storm talked to him yet?"

"I'll go find out right now. He's likely on his way," the Professor's understanding grandfather smile was back. She still wanted to find Remy. He let his awareness spread, but still could find no sign of coersion, manipulation, any kind of brainwashing'. Beside him, Jean was doing the same thing. _There's nothing. Remy was telling the truth. What a spectacular first impression we made on Rogue's boyfriend._ Outwardly Xavier assured Rogue, "Why don't you rest until he gets here?" 

Mutely, again, Marie nodded. Her eyelids felt heavy already. Besides being mentally exhausted, she had been awake for almost two days straight already, minus her brief psychic coma-nap. Letting her eyes close, she began to drift off, a new room began to materialize around her. A manifestation of her subconscious starting to repair her fractured mindscape, building new shields around her. Soft, almond colored walls slowly grew upward. A few of the decorations were from her old room at the institute, but most of the room Jean recognized as one of the bedrooms in Marie and Remy's apartment. It was the place she subconsciously thought of as home. More evidence that Remy' honestly did nothing but try to help Marie.

The sound of the rain subsided into a gentle patter on the roof. An exhausted Marie burrowed deeper into the blankets on a bed that had appeared underneath her. She'd rest a little bit. Remy would be here in no time, he'd try to sneak into the room without waking her, but she would anyway and he'd tell her to back to sleep, because she needed the rest. He'd see the ring and know she'd snooped in his room. She'd tell him for all the worry he'd put her through she'd deserved to wear it. He'd smile...and everything would be fine. 

_Beware the Jabberooky..._

  
Henry McCoy somewhat frantically made his way into the MedLab, it had been a very long day and his poor nerves couldn't handle much more. "Jean, we are expecting a new patient," he announced abruptly.

"What happened?" Jean snapped up, instantly assumed the worst. "Is it one of the students-,"

Shaking his head apologetically, "My apologies for causing you undue concern. One of the esteemed local hospitals called requesting to transfer of one of _their_ patients. Apparently, they do not feel they can provide the appropriate care for this patient's _unique_ needs." Meaning the hospital didn't want to deal with a mutant. It had happened before. Being the country's leading experts on mutants, Xavier got requests of this type on occasions. "Has our resident Sleeping Beauty awoken yet?"

"No, and it's probably not the best idea to give her a roommate just yet." Jean chewed on her lower lip. Rogue's mental state should be stable, but there was no need to test that now. "Well, we could move her to a more isolated area...or..Maybe we could move her to her old room. Waking up in familiar surroundings wouldn't be a bad idea for her."

Cyclops voice came over Henry's communicator, "Hank, the ambulance is here."   
  
"I'll be right up. Jean if you would be so kind as to move our originally patient. I shall bring the new one here shortly." Hank bounded back the way he came, muttering light hearted under his breath, "Why if I had a nickel for every comatose patient here today...well, I'd have ten cents, but that's beside the point..." 

The ambulance pulled into the front of the mansion. Hank met the crew there as they were opening the back of the vehicle. One turned his head and started briefing Hank while he opened the doors, "He was pretty much stabilized when we left. Still a mess, but stable." The doctors at the hospital had already given Hank the rundown on the patient's injuries, so he merely nodded and didn't ask many questions. The wheels of the gurney clicked against the edge of the doorframe when the paramedics lower it, giving Henry his first look at the new patient. 

"Oh my stars and garters..." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Before..._

The wind was picking up again. It had been on and off all day, more constantly 'on' since nightfall. A gust blew Remy's coat back as he turned down another alley. Another blind alley. The X-patrol had beat him to the restaurant, but it didn't matter because Marie had already 'left'. He thought he'd know where she'd go. He knew how she thought, even when she wasn't thinking straight. She hadn't gone home, to her Mom's, any of the bus and/or train stations. He'd been all over the city and outside it, looking for her, but all his instincts had all been wrong. That left one other possible place, but he had been so sure that she won't go back there. It wouldn't be the first time he had been wrong about something. It also wouldn't be the first time something could go horrible when he was wrong.

Digging in his pocket, he took out his phone, his new, borrowed' phone since his old one was still at Xavier's. With a final sigh of desperation, he punched in the school's number. 

"Hello, Xavier Institute." came a smooth voice.

It was the good cop, hopeful that was a positive sign. He said a silent prayer, something he didn't do often. "It's 'Gordon'," he didn't wait for a response. "I can't find her. I've looked every place she might be. She not showing up on any radar, literally. If you know anything, I swear I'll let the hairy guy cut me up all he wants, just-,"

"She's here." the woman on the other side interrupted him and he let at a relieved sigh. 

"Is she OK?" he demanded.

"She's still...confused. The voices were out of control, but Dr. Grey and the Professor are helping her with them." He wasn't sure if telepaths messing with Marie's head was a good thing or not. "She asked for you." Storm's voice continued.

This time he inhaled sharply, "Will you let me see her?" he asked warily. It would be walking straight back into the spider's web, but he had to risk it.

"She's resting right now, but she does want to see you," the calming voice smoothly avoided the question. 

It didn't really matter, she was there, so that's where he was going. If she wasn't there and this was a trick, he'd blast his way out again and find her. No matter where she was. "I'm holding you to that, Monroe," with that he unceremoniously hung up. Wearily he rubbed his hand across his face, trying not to let his hopes rise too much at the thought of seeing Marie again. There was still the Xavier squad to deal with, but she was safe, she was alright...

"I know you probably think this an elaborate trap devised by Xavier, but she, is in fact, there."

The wind had died down, but Remy's blood dropped about twenty degrees. He had to remind himself to breath. Without turning around, he knew who it was. "What are you doing here?" he asked very, very quietly.

"Just keeping you from doing anything else foolish," a man in a finely tailored black suit and spotless overcoat casually stated.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
"Alright, let's go over what we do know," Summers was pacing. And he had a headache. Today had been even more insane than the usual ones at the Institute. All he was missing was a blackboard and pie charts to complete his lecture tone. He knew he sounded like that, couldn't help it, he had slipped in leader' mode, as Jean called it.

Beast obligingly went over the facts that most everyone knew already, "The police got a 911 call that a man had been shot. The caller didn't leave their name. Paramedics at the scene knew the injury wasn't a gunshot wound, but didn't know what to make of it. And that combined with the fact that the patient was a mutant gave the hospital staff entirely too much of a headache, so they called us. Personally, I think it looks like some sort of energy bolt, maybe plasma. From the wound, it looks like the shot came from an angle, probably while he was turning around, so he may or may not have seen the attacker. The blast did a fair amount of surface damage, but not too much internally. He should recover nicely given time, and I'm giving him generous amounts of morphine until then. He should be in an absolutely wonderful mood when he wakes up."

That would be an improvement over the last time he was here, Scott thought to himself. "Yes, but the biggest question is who shot him and why? Rogue is going to want to know when she wakes up and I'm not sure we want to get her mad just yet. Let's go over what the possibilities could be. One-,"

Wolverine interrupted, "I thought Jeannie and Chuck took care of that brainwashing thing. Stripes'll glad that lowlife's out of commission."

" Jeannie and Chuck' don't think there was any brainwashing." Cyclops tried to get back on track. 

Logan still didn't believe that, they must have missed something. "Oh yeah, she just up and ran off with this guy."

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
"You did it, didn't you? You took her," Remy said, though he didn't really need to ask the question. 

The man in the overcoat shrugged nonchalantly and inspected his fingernails, "Originally, yes. I knew you would figure it out eventually, you aren't as stupid as you'd like people to believe."

"Why? Why did you want to kill that Carol person? Why did you want to do that to Marie?"

"I didn't want to kill her. I never _want_ to kill people, it is sometimes inevitable in the course of the scientific study," he said with a calm logic. "Besides, she's not actually dead anyway. Don't know if she'll ever recover, but that's hardly important now. Her part of the experiment is over. As for Rogue, she should be happy. She always hated her powers, thought that she was useless to the X-Men. She has more power than she could ever dream of now," a cold hearted smile. 

"Because you're such a nice guy," Remy knew from past experience fighting wasn't going to get him anywhere, so he was left with venting and ranting impotently. "You're experiment to drive her nuts was a success. Congratulations."

There was no reaction, "I knew there would be psychological side effects. That's why I sent her back to Xavier. He was quite suited to deal with those complications."

"Those complications' were a lot more than you expected?" Remy wasn't quite sure why he was still talking. Essex wasn't going to tell him anything he didn't want to. Nothing he said could change what happened, or would make any sense, for that matter, to sane people anyway.

"Nonsense. I expect everything. Her delusions got the better of her before she could reach Xavier. For that occurrence, I merely planted a subconscious suggestion for her to go to Madipoor should that happen." Seeing Remy's shocked look, he merely smiled and continued, "I knew you were there, and you cannot be within 50 miles of a damsel in anything remotely resembling distress without gallantly stepping in. I think it may be a secondary mutation of yours," he said with very dry humor. "I figured you would help her find her way back to Xavier's. I didn't expect you to take quite so long though," a mildly reproving look. "No matter, she's there now, Xavier is fixing' the psychic damage even as we speak, so I'll forgive your unprofessional tardiness."

"Gee, will ya? Thanks. You really are a nice guy, Essex," he practically spat out the name. He reall wanted to hit the smug S.O.B. Why not? Essex would knock him back, say something about being too rash and be on his merry, little, evil, way. Essex couldn't really hurt him. Well, that wasn't true. The good doctor could hurt him plenty, he had the nightmares to prove it. But the _freak_ considered him too valuable a specimen' to damage permanently'. Why not risk it? _Because I need to get back to Marie._

The perfectly tailored arm of the suit moved up and Essex could check his watch."You should probably be going now."

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scott sighed and looked at the ceiling, silently cursing Logan's stubbornness. "No, she didn't run off. Our running theory now is that a third party-,"

"What happened to your government angle?"

"A third party, who may or may not be with the government, though probably not, was involved in both Rogue's and Major Danver's disappearances and Remy' didn't find her till later, after the voices' started. She was apparently pretty good at controlling them until a few days ago." 

"Because he was brainwashing her." Wolverine repeated as if they were all a bit dense. "Once we got him away from her, it started wearing off and she came back," a shrug, "maybe not in the best way, but still..."

Jean broke in sounding diplomatic,"That's true in a way...at least. We tried to get as much information as we could from Rogue' memories. It was a still little hazy in her head, but we learned a lot. Her boyfriend's' not a telepath at least, he doesn't think he is. He does know he's nearly impossible to read, but just considers it a lucky coincidence. He's probably a very low level psi, maybe an empath-," 

"An empath, that would explain a lot," Scott muttered under his breath.

"-and he's biggest strength is in his shielding. Marie had a classic fugue episode. She 'forgot' everything to avoid dealing with Carol. Eventually she would have remembered on her own, in a few days probably, but every time her makeshift shields started to give, she would begin acting erratically, hallucinating-,"

"Like she did at the restaurant." Beast supplied helpfully. He had been jotting things down in a notebook while Wolverine insisting on running the converation in circles. At least _he_ was being constructive.

Nodding, Jean continued, "Yes, and Remy would always try to calm her down'-,"

"Meaning he would strengthen her shields, block out Carol, but also keep her from remembering." Cyclops concluded.

"So, he _was_ brainwashing her." Cyclops silently counted to ten to keep himself from strangling Logan.

Jean sighed, "No, it was all on a subconscious level, he only wanted to make her better', but he never really knew what was wrong with her, so he just maintained what seemed to be her normal' state. When we captured him and held him here, there was no one to reinforce the shielding and it finally collapsed on its own."

Logan sounded not entirely convinced, but was running out of counter arguments. "What was that you said about empaths'?" These eggheads had way too many words to describe things. What exactly was an empath' again?... something like a telepath...

"Empaths tend to act more ...erratically than other psis, because they read emotions not thoughts, like telepaths do. So they can be illogical." 

That didn't make sense to Logan, "If he was a 'path, than he would have known we wouldn't hurt Rogue." Aha, another counterpoint.

"No, he would only feel our emotions like worry, fear, anger and not the reasons behind them. Magneto always feels' he's helping his people, even when he's blowing things up. Some empaths can be very untrusting for that reason." Jean was oing a remarkable job of still sounding patient.

"And empathy is generally useless against sociopaths and some psychotic types that because they don't feel' anything." Scott added. Before Wolverine could interject anything else, he pushed through with the original topic of discussion. "Now let's get back to possible suspects and evidence behind them. One, it was random, Two, he may have stumbled onto something about the real kidnapper. Three, it was a personal enemy-,"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why are you telling me this?" Remy was always suspicious around Essex, but right now the man was being far too courteous. 

"So full of questions today, aren't we? Honestly, I thought you would have realized that as well. Perhaps you are not as clever as I gave you credit for."

Remy waited, hearing his own heart thump behind his ribs. What was Essex doing here, why was he talking to Remy at all? "You want me to keep my mouth shut."

"That is something you normally e_xcel_ at. But you, obviously, have not been using your better judgement as of late," and pointed look. "I just want to assure myself that you have not broken yourself of that habit entirely. As I said before, you would have figured out it my part in this eventually. Especially with Raven running about with that ridiculous book of hers." Remy didn't even bother wondering how Essex knew that. He knew how to take down federal super-soldier Danvers, knew Remy would be in Madripoor, why wouldn't he know about Destiny's diary? Obviously, knowing such things just fell under the 'Evil Genius' title. Remy's internal musing was interrupted, "But you already knew I took Rogue, didn't you?"

Yes, he did. He hadn't admitted it to himself, but in the middle of night, during his worst dreams, he knew what had to have happened. The creeping voice in the back of his head that always thought the worst, had realized this long ago. He could finally understand how Raven could think some fates could have been worse than death for her daughter. 

"There would be no benefit in telling her, you know that, or you would have already," he pointed out with more calm logic.

Ignoring the implication of that statement, "It doesn't matter. Xavier's mucking around in her head, he'll find out," part him was relieved he didn't have to say anything.

With utterly no concern whatsoever, "He can't find what doesn't exist. I told you I expect _everything_."

That wasn't possible, how could....Then it hit him, if Marie was kept sedated the entire time, she would have no memories, nothing to recover.

"I generally don't care for anaesthesia, interferes with my results too much, but sometimes it is a necessary evil." Gambit almost laughed out loud at the irony of that statement.

"Do you quite understand what I'm saying LeBeau?" Remy stared, not sure at all what the man was trying to say. "The experiment was a success. All that's left is field observations. I thought you'd be rather happy to hear that. Rogue is free', to use the vernacular expression."

She was free? Was the freak really going to leave her alone? "So long as I don't do anything foolish', right?"

A even coler smile, "Precisely." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summers was making sense, Logan hated that. But he still couldn't believe that Rogue was actually with that low life of her own free will. She was with that Bobby kid before, the one who wanted to be an accountant, for crying out loud. "Remy", (what kind of name was that anyway?) couldn't be farther from her type, as long he ignored the fact that Marie had a crush on himself for while. No, it wasn't the same thing. She'd go back to Drake when she came to her senses, she had too. He was a good kid, and just a little afraid of Logan, the way he should be.

"It was only a couple days...and the shields collapsed. That means he had to be around her constantly." He had been paying almost no attention to what Cyke had been saying about suspects and crime scenes.

"When you love somebody, you kinda want to be around em lot. It's funny how that works," came a voice from the doorway.

"Hello, Rogue. We didn't think you'd be awake yet. How are you feeling?" the Professor had known she was there, but let her wait until she wanted to talk. 

Seemingly ignoring Xavier's question, "At first, I told myself I was only hanging around him because I didn't have anyone else, but that wasn't why. I wanted to be with him, that was always the reason." There was a pause. She was still tired, but honestly, she had a hard time sleeping without Remy there. So she got up, and found Remy in the Medlab. No sleeping after that. "What happened to him?" her voice was neutral, but she glanced sidelong at Wolverine.

They of course knew immediately what she was talking about. "He was attacked, somewhere in the Bronx, we don't know who yet. But he's going to be fine." She didn't say anything, just nodded and left the room, presumably to go back to the MedLab. Logan started to follow her, but hesitated. "Hey, kid-,"

A half turn momentarily,"Not now, Logan." There was an angry edge to her voice. "The Professor and Jean can tell everything that happened. I don't want to deal with anything else right now." And then she turned back, exiting through the door.

Leaving the war room, she made her way down the hallway. A few steps before the MedLab doors she heard someone, "Hey, Rog-,Marie." She froze, hearing a familiar voice. "I don't know if you remember me yet, but my name's-,"

"bobby," she whispered. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hello, Police? I think someone's been shot. I don't know, I just saw him in an alley. Where?" Essex was doing a good imitating mild panic as he talked to police dispatch. As a scientist he valued his privacy, it was essential to his research. LeBeau's silence hadn't been overly important before. The thief had never really been in a position to tell anything, at least not to anyone that mattered or who would believe him. But now that he had formed this...attachment to Xavier's student, that situation had changed. Gambit staying with Xavier's people wasn't an entirely bad idea, the boy should be around other mutants more for sufficent development. So he just needed to remind Remy about the importance of discretion. The subtle threat to the girl would probably have been enough to ensure the boy's silence, but no sense in taking any chances.

He continued his converstaion, "No, no. I should go. Someone may still be around. No, I told you I didn't see anyone. I have to go." Just a touch of added fear, so he could avoid staying around for a police questioning. He hung up his phone and put it back in his coat pocket. The ambulance should be here soon. Remy needed a lesson, but letting him bleed to death in a dim, back alley would be highly counterproductive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bobby. She did remember him, and he was the person she was least looking forward to talking to.

"Does that mean you're... feeling better?"

"Yeah," answering his question. She still wasn't looking at him, but could tell from his voice that he was smiling. She should get used to people asking that, this wouldn't be he last time. "Pretty much, I guess."

"I'm really, _really_ sorry about what happened earlier. Honestly, I never liked Emma, I can't believe she attacked you like-,"

"It's alright, I wasn't exactly acting friendly." Marie fidgeted with her hair and forced herself to look up.

"And about the ice wall, You were running right toward the cliff...I thought you were going to fall. I wasn't trying to hurt you. You have to believe me. , I was just trying-,"

"I said it's alright. It's alright," it was an interesting change of pace having someone else apologizing, but she was anxious to back to Remy. "I know we should talk about this and everything... but I can't really talk right now..."

He looked down, shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure of her reaction. "OK...Anything you want... I missed you..I just wanted to tell you that,.. and I'm just glad you back." he stammered out.

That was low, not intended to be, undoubtably, but that was low. She inched forward a bit, triggering the MedLab doors. Letting the door slid open,she glanced inside. Remy was still asleep, so she let herself turn a fraction to face Bobby. "I do remember you, Bobby, everything, I think, anyway. Her eyes darted up and down and occasionally back into the room, trying but having no idea how to say these things. "I put you through a lot, I know-,'

"It's not like you left on purpose. It never should have happened, but you're back now and everything, well, it can't go back to normal exactly, but-,"

"No, it can't. I know the last six months shouldn't happened-,"

"Eight months. You've been gone for eight months."

"Ok, the last eight months never should have happened, but they did and nothing can ever be the same. I'm sorry," she said apologizing yet again. Finally making her way through the doors, and not looking back at Bobby who was still standing where she'd left him.

"Whenever you're ready to talk, I'll be here. I've waited this long..." he shrugged, trying to be good natured and supportive.

That was _really_ low. She didn't respond, couldn't even look at him again. What should she say, _Sorry, I know I've put you through the ringer these past months, but I don't love you, don't really want to talk to you, and kinda wish I was still doing that fugue thing, so I could have my perfect life back? _Couldn't very well say that. Bobby was a nice kid, she at least owed him a decent conversation. Who was she calling kid'? He was the same age as she was. They graduated together, started taking basic college courses at the institute together, were going to decide where to go to school together after that. But then she changed all that when she ran away. 

All the psychological talk aside, that's what happened. Her life became just too screwed up, so she left to make a new one. Her new perfect life. Not everyone would consider it perfect,' but she was as close to normal' as she'd ever had and to her it was utterly perfect. A job, an apartment, someone who loved her, occasional lunch with her Mom...briefly she wondered if the Professor had found out Raven while he was in her head. That would be even more of an explanation than Remy had been. She didn't want to admit it, but losing her mother hurt a lot more than she thought it should. _Don't think about that_...BEEP, something was beeping, in a hospital room that couldn't be good. **_What was beeping?_**

Immediately forgetting about Raven and Bobby, she frantically looked around trying to figure out what was wrong, but only saw incomprehensible machinery. 

"I'll get Jean," she vaguely heard someone else say.

"Remy?" she decided bypass the machines altogether and just focus her worry on Remy. "What's wrong, _cher_? Talk to me, please," she begged. While she did, Jean appeared suddenly there at the bedside with some big, blue, hairy guy she'd never seen before, fussing with the I.V. The beeping stopped and along with it Rogue's heart rate cut in half.

When Bobby called over the comm link, Jean and Hank had already been on their way down the hall. The doctor's comm badge was linked to the monitors in the MedLab just for occasions like these. "His blood pressure was just up a little. I gave him something to bring it down. He's fine." Jean was using her calming doctor's voice and saw Rogue's tension visibly drain. The girl kept her grip on Remy's hand and still didn't look completely well. She should still be sleeping. "Why don't you lie back down. You need the rest. I'll stay here with him and tell you the minute he wakes up."

"No," she replied without bothering to think it over. "I don't even _think_ about trying to make me go. I'm stronger than all y'all now, and I'm staying right here," that came out it little angrier than she had intended.

The blue guy was the one who finally answered, "Alright, then. We shall find you a nice, comfy chair. Perhaps some pillows?"

"Sure, thanks,...um..."

"Hank, Hank McCoy. Pleasure to make your acquaintance," he extended a blue hand in introduction. She shook it wearily. Well, as far as new people went, he did seemed a whole lot nicer than that white woman. Nevertheless, she turned her attention back to Remy. Dr. McCoy faded back, presumably to find that chair he was talking about and Jean had already moved back probably to give her some space. Remy's hand was still in hers and she smoothed his hair back. He looked so peaceful, which was ironic, since he usually didn't sleep well. Not without her there, he always said. "Can you hear me? I'm right here beside you, love. You're safe now, we both are. These are my old friends, they'll take good care of you. And I'll never run again, I promise. Just don't scare me like that again. 

Across the room, Bobby hadn't worked up the nerve to approach Rogue again. So instead he stood at a distance, while the two resident doctors played around with charts for the guy on the bed. Rogue was holding his hand, stroking his face tenderly and murmuring to him in...French, it sounded like. "What's she saying," he turned to Jean with trepidation.

Jean was actually trying not to telepathically eavesdrop. The interference in Rogue's mind had died down when the storms did. She alot more readable, especially when she was practically projecting like she was now. "Um...she just telling him where he is, what's going on...things like that." She answered, more like lied, quietly so Rogue wouldn't hear them. 

Beside her, Beast looked over at Jean and then started translating, even more quietly, "You can't leave me yet. You promised me forever, I'm holding you to that. It wasn't been forever, amour."

"Hank-," Jean said disapprovingly, Bobby didn't need to know that.

"He deserves to know, Jean. You can't keep them in the dark. It will only lead to more problems," he said referring to all the students

"Forever?" Bobby questioned almost to himself.

Henry heard him anyway, "Yes, that's engraved inside the band of the ring she's wearing. I am sorry Robert," and he meant it sincerely.

Bobby thought about what Marie had said, how things could never be the same. "That's what she was trying to tell me. But isn't that the guy that Wolverine caught? Isn't he the one who-,"

"No," Jean sounded tired. "I'll explain everything. C'mon, Bobby," she gently took his elbow and led him out of the MedLab. Beast stepped back a bit further and busied himself with more lab work, while he soft sounds of Marie voice lingered in the background. It was really was a beautiful language, he thought as he left the room.

Marie looked over her shoulder, "They're gone now." Remy slowly cracked open an eyelid, when he heard her say that. He had been in and out of consciousness since she found him. But she still had a heart attack when that beeping started. "It _is_ safe here. They are my friends."

"I'm still getting used to that idea," he croaked. His throat wasn't feeling any better, but oddly enough he felt rather happy about it. He tugged little on the I.V., wondering what was in it exactly. Marie ran her fingers through his hair some more. Or maybe it was just finally seeing his _amour_ again. She looked alright, actually she looked radiant, like she always did. "You look radiant," he just came out and said. What was is that I.V.? Marie just smiled at him. "Ya sure you're alright, _chere_?"

"I'm fine. You seriously need to rest." His eyes drooped shut even though he was preparing to tell her he was perfectly fine. Lightly he felt her hand brush across the bandage on his neck. "Wolverine is so dead when I get a hold of him." She thought he didn't know what happened to him, but he could 'remember' what Logan did.

"Ya know, you're beautiful when you're angry," he opened his eyes again. "Who was that guy you were talking too?"

She sighed, "That would be my old boyfriend Bobby."

"Old as in ex-, or old as in you forgot him?"

"It's over-,"

"So you forgot?"

"I did forget, and now I have to find a way to tell him, it was fun, thanks for worrying about me all this time, but I'm in hopelessly in love with someone else. Any suggestions how to start that conversation?"

He thought about that for a second, but another thought overtook his slightly clouded brain, "Did you say Bobby?' That popsicle kid who-,"

She smiled and leaned her head down, touching his forehead and kissed him. He forgot what he was talking about and didn't bother blaming it on the I.V. this time.  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another longer chapter. Dum-dum... the major villain is revealed, even though everybody already knew who it was anyway. Now the characters know too, well at least one of them. Rogue's amnesia was explained, some of you probably figured most of it out from the last chapter. I hope I didn't drag on for to long with the explanation. I've never seen an explanation of empaths before, so this one came completely out of me head, but it seemed logically enough. And it explained how Gambit could have been a psi and still have been involved with Sinister. Don't kill me for hurting Remy (again,) he's going to be fine! Sinister wanted to get his point across, and he's not a nice guy.

I realized while I was writing this that Beast and Sinister kinda talk alike. It was weird. Beast's line about comatose patients is blatantly stolen, from what issue I can't remember. It was right after the Age of Apocalypse, I know that. It was one favorite X-Men quotes. 

I was kind of dreading writing this chapter, because this is the one where I had to rip Bobby's heart right out of this chest. (He's a nice guy, I didn't want to do it, but I had to.) On to the shout outs:

  
ishandahalf -Remy is back, but not a lot of mushyness. Well Rogue's old friends didn't help the situation much. But it wasn't their idea to attack her. Bobby was just trying to kept her from running off the cliff. Emma was the one who really pushed her over the edge with her over- reacting. Stupid Emma..grumble... They finally believe Rogue about the brainwashing. Took them long enough, but honestly it probably was a logically conclusion to jump to, given the life they lead. And yes, the x-Men have been trying but they _really_ don't have any idea of what's going one. 

Pixie Flyer -Evil write'rs block. I had a little of that in this chapter. Hope you get over it soon.

star_of_chaos()-Glad I could help make you feel better. :)

evanescence kicks ass -Yeah the psyche stuff was hard to write. The whole stories gotten harder in the last few chapters because I'm trying to tie everything together. Lot harder than I thought it'd be. :)

Randirogue- Thanks. I love your story Callous,' so that means a lot. 

4Rogue()-Poor Remy indeed. First his frantic, then he's in the hospital. But he's fine! (Don't kill me!) :)   


Jukebox -Yep, back to the real world for this chap. The cold, cruel, real world. :)  


SeaWench-The cabin is a little like the mental bricks, even though I wasn't crazy about the 2nd Rogue mini. I do still follow the comics. So far I like the direction Rogue's taking, wouldn't want her to remain powerless forever, but it's a interesting angle to explore. I do wish there would be _some _exploration of Remy and Rogue's relationship. It's been pushed aside right now.

Silly Sphinx-Logan does have that bad temper. Gets him into trouble. :) Glad you like it.

Iseult of the Snows -Short and time the point. :) Thanks!

Alwaysright1-There was a little implied Romy, but yeah, that chapter was mostly about Carol and getting Rogue's head back together. You are _exactly_ right about Tantie Matte, and why Rogue chose her as a protector'. I'm glad you saw it.  
  
Girl number 1()-Thanks. Here's the next update.

Sagi()- That wasn't the ending, so don't release Shadowcat. It is almost over though. Hopefully you'll like the ending. Yeah, Rogue's keeping her powers from Carol. I loved the movies, but the comic incarnation of Rogue is still my favorite.

AngstWolf -Here's another chapter, still a little late, but not as bad as last time. (More work and holiday madness) This chappie's super sized too. I just started writing and it wasn't done, so I had to keep going.

Zeelee-Good ol' Emma, always there to make things worse. :) Logan is still not a happy camper, and not likely to get any happier, but that too bad because there's nothing he can do about it. ;).  
  
millie()-Good point, Rogue doesn't have to absorb someone else to become a stronger character. Some development could work just as well. I do like Evolution Rogue and she still doesn't have extra powers, just stronger charazation. I guess I just like Rogue with those powers. The movies were good, loved them, (the second one was the best. ) And Anna Paquin didn't do a bad job, per se, but she did not _quite_ fit. 

Tayrion-Got your review in right under the wire. Thank you for your compliments and I hope you still like the story after chap 9. (The story started gettng harder to write in the later chapters. Writer's block I guess.) You are right, though. I did change a lot of elements from the movie to make them closer to the comic. Some of the things in the comics I liked better and _was_ more comfortable writing, so I steered things that way. Maybe I should have tried thinking 'outside the box' more so to speak. Case in point, I did it again in this chapter by bringing in Sinister, when he's not one of the characters likely to show up in the movie. (The Shiar and Apocalyse are the _least_ likely to appear, in my opinion anyway.) By now I have a pattern of that, so why change toward the end? :) Maybe,(in all my vast spare time) I'll try a movie story that follows the 'movie' better. It would be a good challenge.


	14. Reflections

 SEQ CHAPTER h r 1Wow. This is the _latest_ ever update. First I want to say, I am so sorry.  I never meant for this to take sooo long. This is probably going to be the last chapter, I'm going to write it like that anyway. I've got way too much going on to write much more, but the story was winding down anyway.  Crazy person that I am, I decided to start a freelance business on the side of my full time job, joined the local Arts Council and I had a show to paint for. First show's done, but now there's another smaller one (thankfully) and everything else is still there, I typed up half of this on a plane coming back from San Franciso, and the rest in between designing websites and user interface icons. I'll try and wrap up the loose ends. Of after this long, anyone who was following the story, might want to reread the last few chapters. Thank you so much to _everyone_ whose read and/or reviewed.  If it wasn't for you guys, I would have given up on this a long time ago.

_Shards of looking glass..._

"You sure you want to do this?" Remy's voice was only a little above a whisper, even though, technically he didn't have to be quiet.  Professor Xavier was psionically masking their presence.  Gambit could shout if he wanted too, but that just seemed silly and more than a little disrespectful.  This was a hospital after all.  Marie hadn't wanted to here come at all.  Had no intention to, until that popsicle kid had talked her into it.  Try as he might, Remy couldn't break the habit of thinking of Drake as 'that popsicle kid,' whose sole purpose in life was to destroy the landscaping.  He still couldn't believe Marie ever went out with him, _She has so much better taste than that._  

And in all honesty, 'Bobby' didn't actually try to talk Marie into going to see 'Carol.' Just said something to the effect of, _So when is the Professor taking you to see Carol?  Oh you're not going?  Oh no, that's ok nothing wrong with that....  _Which of course, got Marie thinking of her 'running away' issues and so she let her herself get convinced that she _should_ see Carol, someone else Remy tried to, but for obvious reasons, couldn't quite bring himself to like, for the sake of 'closure' or whatever.  Dumb popsicle kid...

He really was tying to be nice to the guy because, well, for obvious reasons. 'Robert,' though everyone called him Bobby was here at the hospital as well. In the waiting room, the Professor didn't really want to sneak in an entire boy scout troop into a military hospital.  Jean, Logan and Bobby were all milling about the lobby.  Jean as telepathic back up, Logan, because he was convinced that anything involving Marie was somehow his business, and Bobby for moral support.  Personally, he thought Rogue just felt guilty and let the kid tag along.  The Professor may have wanted Remy to stay back as well, but that just wasn't going to happen.  He may feel sympathetic toward 'Carol', but nothing good ever seemed to happen when she was around.

The hum of Xavier's wheelchair stopped suddenly in front of an entirely non-descript door.  Marie, directly in front of him almost stumbled at the abrupt stop.  She also appeared to have stopped breathing. Silently, Remy rested his hands on her shoulders in what he hoped was a comforting way. _This must be the place_.  He also silently wished to himself that this went better than when she first 'found' her X-Men friends.  But she, they, had made it through that and things had gotten better since then.

_Adjusting..._

Most of the mansion was dark, but the light from the kitchen glowed softly.  Without even thinking about it, Rogue had walked straight to the kitchen from the Medlab.  Through all the myriad rooms, hallways and levels, never once did getting lost.  Her memory really was back, she thought as she turned through the doorway.  Mixed blessing as it was. It had been a few days, two maybe three, the hours and days all ran together, since Remy'd  been hurt. She'd spent the whole time in the MedLab, carefully avoiding everyone else in the mansion. They were being very good about giving her 'space', probably afraid of triggering another breakdown.  She would see Jean from time to time, who was no doubt scanning her brain. Really, she just needed some time to decompress.  A person should only be allowed to have one major life altering event a year. And even if there was more than one, they shouldn't be allowed to contradict one another.

Remy was sleeping at the moment, he did that a lot.  Rogue briefly wondered if there was a sedative mixed in with the morphine in his I.V.  Then she decided, even if their was, it was probably a good thing.  It would keep him in one place until he got better. 

So being that he was asleep and it was the middle of the night, she felt safe venturing out for some real food.  She'd been telling Remy he was exaggerating about the 'hospital food', but he really wasn't.  Just because someone is sick, doesn't mean they should be forced to eat nothing but chicken soup and Jell-O.  How could that make you healthy?  She'd have to sneak him back something good. 

As she rounded into the kitchen, she faltered a bit.  Just her luck, Bobby was sitting at one of the tables, eating ice cream.  _He was does that when he can't sleep._  The thought came unbidden and she twisted her ring on her finger, apparently that was now a nervous habit. She'd spoken to Bobby for maybe thirty seconds total since their last 'conversation'.  The one where she'd ripped his heart out and tapped danced on it. Regardless, she knew she couldn't keep acting this way around him, so she continued into the kitchen and casually, she hoped, said hi.

"Hey," he replied, still sounding awkward.  "How's your...friend doing?"

Rogue stared. Bobby was sitting in the kitchen, sounding just like himself, doing just what he would be doing... "What are you doing here? What are you playing at?"

"Bobby" smiled, she was quite proud of Marie for catching her so fast, "I didn't fool you for second, did I?"

"I'm used to your faces. Whadda ya doing here?" she repeated and had to deliberately stop herself from saying 'Momma'.

"I came to see if you were alright," she looked sincere, sounded _very_ sincere...

"Right, because you care so much-,"

"Yes,  I do.  If I didn't, I wouldn't be here. If I didn't, I wouldn't have bothered trying to find you in the first place-,"

"You helped Magneto try to _kill_ me," She couldn't let herself forget that. Couldn't, even if she wanted too, which she desperately did. The memory of seeing her mother stand by, unfeeling, while a madman tried to kill her hurt more than anything else that had happened in the past few days.  With the exception of seeing Remy in that hospital bed. Her mother had never pretended to be saint, Marie had always know Raven worked on both sides of the law, but the coldness of that memory...It was much more than she thought "momma' was capable of.  What else was 'momma' capable of? "You didn't have anything to do with what happened to Carol, did you?" she asked hesitatingly, somewhat afraid of the answer.

"You know I didn't," Raven said quiet but forcefully.  "You know why I did everything, Marie." Raven didn't have to explain it to her daughter, but she started to anyway. "Irene saw what-,"

_Not this again..._ "I don't want to hear it. Literally, Momma," _Drat, let that one slip_. She kept going, trying to ignore the light that went up in Raven's eyes when she said that.  "What good _ever_ came outta trying to figure out Irene's books?  Seriously, all they've  done is make you and the people you love," she paused, "miserable. Let it go. Get rid of those books. Or at least lock 'em back up in attic, you can't..." she trailed off, knowing it was useless trying to convince her mother. Raven didn't say anything, but it wouldn't have mattered if she did.   "You should go, someone's gonna find you."

"Bobby" pushed away from the table and stood up. This conversation was as much as Mystique could have expected.  She turned at the doorway, looking back, "They _were_ your friends, but that doesn't mean you still belong here, Marie. You or Remy. You know what happened," that was the closest thing she had to an ace in the hole, playing her daughter's boyfriend off of her old friends. "You know where to find me," she gave a knowing look, "The both of you."

Rogue sighed dejectedly as Raven vanished from the kitchen.  If nothing else, Raven did provide something useful, and Marie scooped up the abandoned tub of cookies and cream.

_More broken glass..._

Inside the room seemed nice enough, for a hospital, but Marie sounded as if she might stop breathing again at any moment.  There was a hospital-looking bed, the type that Remy remembered far too well, but Carol wasn't in the bed.  Instead she was sitting in a wheelchair stationed near a window.  She might have been looking out of it, except that she didn't seem to be looking at...anything at all.  Her head lolled slightly to one side, a few blond strands of hairs hanging over those glassy, empty eyes.  Xavier had said the woman was improving, was catatonic really an _improvement _over comatose?  This was a bad idea. Remy thought to himself.

Nevertheless, by the time he had turned to Marie, she was already walking, shakily, towards the window and the woman in the chair.

Carol_, should I call her that?_, had been in the hospital long enough that someone had brought her a real robe instead the standard hospital variety. It looked nice, it was even her favorite color. Did she know she was wearing it? Did she realize when someone brought it to her? Should I say something?  She already decided what to do and say before they left the mansion, but all her plans had vanished  right out of her head as soon as she stepped through the door.

_More unexpected visitors..._                                                        

Another dark hallway, this one leading to an equally dark doorway.  After the kitchen and her 'conversation' with Raven, she wasn't quite ready to go back to the Medlab.  The Professor had told her that Remy was actually an empath and sensitive to emotions, so she should try to be calm and soothing around him, at least while he was still recovering. She knew he could handle her all of emotional quirks just fine when he was healthy.  So a nice stroll to calm down would be a good idea, even if the ice cream was going to start melting.

In her wandering, she found the hallway leading to her old room and couldn't resist taking a look. Walking in, she reached to the side and flicked the light switch, as she simultaneously dropped the ice cream carton on a night stand that she just knew was next to the door.  Incandescent light flooded the room.  It seemed unbearably bright and harsh, but that couldn't be.  Muttering under her breath as she squinted, "The lighting in here's probably perfect...just like everything else...perfect lights, perfect decor-,"

"Perfect landscaping.  Don't forget the landscaping, _chere_," a slightly raspy voice chimed in from the other side of the room.  There, of course, was Remy lounging on her old bed. If not for the bandages and hospital clothes, he would have looked right at home. _So much for him staying in one place. _ " 'Cept for those sprinklers your boyfriend broke...I haven't gotta around to fixin' 'dem yet. Been busy."

Ignoring the boyfriend comment, she walked quickly over to the bed and knelt down beside him to make sure he was all in one piece. "You're not supposed to leave the MedLab yet," she should have said it in a disapproving way, but couldn't bring herself to. Not as long as he was still wearing those bandages.   

He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, "I'm sick of dat place. And I think that blue doctor's been doping Remy up." Marie smiled.  He was  cute when he was tired and started talking in the third person.   Almost unconsciously, she started brushing back his hair and stroking the side of his face. She didn't even bother asking him how he knew where her old room was.  He had spent the past months memorizing everything about of the entire mansion, with special consideration for rumors about the mysterious girl who 'disappeared.'

"What are you doing in here, anyway?" she asked, not realizing she had posed almost the exact same question to Mystique, but in a _very_ different tone. 

"What are _you_ doing here, _chere_?  Leaving me in that lab all alone..."

"Aww...poor baby, ya miss me that much? I was just walking back from the kitchen and got kinda nostalgic, I guess." she shrugged. "Oh, I found some ice cream," she said nodding over to the night stand where she had deposited the carton. He smiled, not exactly caring as much as she did, or any women did, about ice cream. "Wanted to see if my room was still the same." Looking around, it was exactly like she'd left it. That was sweet and creepy at the same time. "And you didn't answer my question, what are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to get outta that place," he said with distaste.  "This seemed a good spot to hide.  And thought I might run into a cute girl here," he lifted his eyes to look at her and gave his 'innocent' smile.

She her smile widened, feeling silly because she started melting like the ice cream.  She couldn't help it, it felt so good to hear his voice.

There was a crash as the door suddenly slammed opened.  Instinctively, Rogue leapt up, hovering above the bed.  Next to her Remy bolted up and she winced for him, knowing it had to hurt.  Wolverine stood at that the threshold and immediately rushed in.  "Rogue, I just caught a scent,  Mystique's here.  You have to come with me-,"

"She's _here_?" Remy said with disbelief.  And Wolverine immediately glared at him wondering how the cajun knew who Mystique was.  Before he could say anything though, Rogue broke in sounding very tired.

"No, Logan, it's alright.  She was here, but she's gone now." Marie said.  _She better be gone._

"She's gone?" he repeated with a very healthy dose of disbelief.

Remy shook his head ruefully, "Your mom's got a pair, that for sure."

"...your WHAT?"

"Yes. The professor knows all about it, you can ask him," she didn't really feel like explaining all of it again.  Especially to Logan, she was still mad at him, him and that white lady.  Strangely, she thought Xavier would have told everyone, all of the senior teachers anyway.  "She just came to check on me."

"So she was the one behind all this?" Wolverine quickly jumping to another wrong conclusion.

Rogue had floated back down to Remy's bedside, "No, she knew about it, but not until after it happened."

"A lot of people seem to know about this, but have nothing to do with it.  They just happen to be in right place at the right time-,"

Remy only lifted an eyebrow at Wolverine's not so subtle insinuation, not terribly phased.  Marie on the other hand... "Don't. Start." she said in a very deliberate way.

"Think about it, Marie...,"

Marie might have been thinking, but mostly she was just glaring. When she did respond it was very, very quietly. "Logan. I know that when you first 'met' Remy, he wasn't very cooperative, and that is the _only_ reason I haven't thrown you clear back to Canada for what you did to him.  You have the word of_ two_ telepaths, three if you count that Frost witch who I know's been snooping around, that Remy did _nothing_ wrong. If you so much as mention your little paranoid delusions again, I will toss you back to the great white north and forget that X-Men don't do things like that.  Kinda like you did when you practically _killed_ him."

Still looking and sounding unapologetic, "I was trying to protect you-,"

"I know.  Like I said, that's why your still here.  I ain't that scared little girl that needs you to protect her. And I don't need you deciding for me who I can be with.  So either you accept that or-," she hesitated. She had raised her hand while she was talking, and now it hung there clenching in and out of fists out of frustration, unsure how to finish her threat.  Her voice was near a whisper, "I can't make everything how it used to be again." She looked directly at Logan through shuttered eyes, "I don't really know that I want to."  Remy was being uncharacteristically quiet through this exchange, saying nothing, only watching Marie.

Without acknowledging anything she had just said, he merely grunted, "I'm going to make sure Mystique's really gone," and Wolverine stalked out the door he came in.

Marie closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, counting backwards from ten in order to keep herself from making good on her threat to throw Wolverine into Hudson Bay.  She turned back to the bed and was also overwhelmed with the feeling that she would spend the rest of her days explaining, arguing or apologizing to _someone _in the crazy place. Remy was watching the door where Logan had just left and was still quiet.

"Marie," he said softly, finally breaking his silence, "If you want-,"

She put a finger on his lips quieting him, she recognized the self defeating look he had at the moment.  "Don't you start too," she said in a tired whisper.

He gave her a small smile, "You're beautiful when you're irritated."

"That line never works," she again tried to sound disapproving, again, not succeeding well.

"I mean it, _chere_, if-,"

"I said, Don't start. I'm not listening." He stared at her, wanting to say more and wanting not to  at the same time.  Instead, he took the hand that still rested n his face, pulled her forward and kissed her fiercely.  Much of him still couldn't believe she could still want to be with him now that she could have her life back. How could he let her do that without knowing everything? How could he look in those eyes and pretend?  He could only stay comatose in that lab for so long...

"Before you say that-,"

"Remy, I said-,"

"I have to tell you something-," There was urgency instead of defeat in his voice now. And finality...

She looked away as she spoke, "It's about him, isn't it?"  He inhaled sharply, holding his breath trying to go on.  "The red eyed man from Momma's book." She looked up again, but her eyes were far away.  "I still have your nightmares sometimes."  He had always wondered how much she remembered from absorbing him.  "All I really see are his eyes.  He did this, all of this, didn't he?"

"I swear I didn't-,"

Quietly she interrupted. "I know. But you figured it out, and he came after you, didn't he?" she glanced side long at the bandages.

"He was 'warning' me to keep quiet. He _will _come after you again, maybe the kids here, if they're handy... I didn't want to risk...I want to do something-,"

"But you don't know how to stop him." she summed up his greatest failure succinctly.

 It was his turn to look away. "I never have.  I was hoping I'd never see that-," this he was cut off as Marie kissed him.

"We'll figure out something. You're not alone anymore."

_Reflections..._

Kneeling down by the chair, "Hi...," Marie stuttered out in an utterly stupid fashion.  Shaking her head, she started to rise, turning her eyes away.  This was the _real_ Carol, not the ghost inside her head. This person probably didn't even know Marie, _did she?, this was pointless... _

"Can you hear me?"  Rogue froze.  "Can you hear me, kid?" it was her, Carol was speaking.  The real Carol and her voice sounded flat and her eyes were still glassy, but she had spoken. It was like a recording, playing back from a different time. The room seemed to go black, a memory flash like she'd had before.  Carol's memories were her memories, too after all. 

_It was the dark place, the one she could never remember, Carol did remember, at least this much.  "She" was having a hard time keeping her eyes open, probably some kind of drugs.  No other way she could have been captured so easily.  One minute she was in her apartment, just home from work, thinking about Chinese take out and now...what was this place?  Trying to move didn't work, because of the drugs and what felt like some kind of restraints. No restraints could hold her for long, she thought  to herself.  As she tried again, she noticed someone else to the side. Only a few feet away, although the drugs were making her vision hazy and dark. Was it a woman... looked like only a kid.  She was strapped down as much as Carol herself.  Did that mean she was as strong, too?  She might helpful in getting them both out of this place.  Straining against the bonds again, she felt a little give, she was getting through, drugs or no drugs, it would only be a matter of time.  A little help would be nice though,  "Can you hear me? Can you hear me, kid?"  No response, or...did she twitch a little?  "Kid? My name's Carol, I work for the government.  I'll can get us out of here..."  There was another sound "...wait, I think someone's coming...Don't worry..." _

"I'll get us out of there," her voice faded even more and trailed off completely. Her breathing even and regular, like she was sleeping, but her eyes didn't shut all the way.  Marie's own eyes darted to the Professor as the memory faded away along with Carol's voice.

Just as quickly looking back to the woman in the wheelchair, "Carol?" Rogue asked again hesitantly, no response.  But she held her breath for another few seconds anyway, waiting.  A light pressure on her shoulder made her flinch. 

"Chere," Remy's voice said softly, sympathy radiating from his dark eyes. 

"She remembers," her words had an odd pleading to them.  Silently, he nodded and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.  Psychically, the Professor interrupted, saying they should probably let Carol rest.  She had regained much strength in the past months, but still tired easily. He himself had actually already seen that memory, there was no more to it, Major Danvers had obviously been sedated again. But he didn't say anything to ruin Rogue's moment. 

Marie was reluctant to stand. The lab was the only gap left in Rogue mind.  Because of Remy, she  was knew what it was, but it was still a yawning black hole in her mind. But more importantly, Carol was remembering, there was half a light in her eyes. She called her 'kid,' maybe there was still hope. "She remembers me." Remy nodded softly and the Professor smiled as reassuring as ever.  "Carol? I can hear you." Carol's eyes had shut the rest of the way and she really was sleeping now.  There would be no more conversations today.  Marie whispered quietly anyway 'You did it. You got us out," somehow she had done what she had promised, Marie convinced herself.  She felt a hand under her elbow as Remy gently reminded her they had to leave. 

"C'mon _chere_, let's go home."  

I am truly sorry to anyone who was disappointed in how long this took.  The story was only going to be a few chapter longer anyway, so I squashed them all into one. And I'm not sure how happy I am with the ending.  A little cheesy, but wraps most everything up. One last shout out to everyone who reviewed, if you even remember what you said last time. :) Thank you soooo much. Now I have to go design icons for point of sales software, (not nearly as much fun.)

ishandahalf- Wasn't trying to give you a heart attack there.  An I wasn't really to make it a surprise that the new patient was Remy.  And Rogue was calmer than expected because she had sitting with him for a while and he was talking to her, (well a little bit, he was still pretty out of it), before she talked to the X-Men. So she'd had time to deal with it.  I made Sinister a very manipulative type, he was more or less behind most of it. Because really, how likely is it that Rogue would just happen to bump into Gambit halfway across the world?  I thought there needed to be more of a reason. I thought the manipulative bit fit with his 'evil genius character. I never thought  he was sneaky enough in the comics. :) And Yeah, Sinister was basically telling Remy to kept his mouth shut because he didn't want any X-Men interference. And I just want to say thanks, ishandahalf, you were a die hard and kept me going.  Even if I never lived up to the bunny on crack label. :)

Star-of-Chaos - No really Gambit/ Wolverine confrontation, but Rogue almost kick Logan's butt herself.  That could have been a lot of fun, but I figured Rogue had enough of violence for a while.

Pixie Flyer -Thanks for reading.

Kryptonite-Don't know what's up with the review problem. Sorry about that. Hey, you were surprised by the bad guy. Cool. Sinister is a comic book guy, of course, he's a mad scientist type. Comicverse wise, who he is and how Remy knows him, it's a really long story. Really short version, Remy got mixed up with him when he was younger and his (Remy's) powers were going haywire, and has regretted it since. Although by now, I'm sure you already know this, you've had _ample_ time to look him up. Poor Bobby, I didn't do much with him in this chapter, he's been through enough. :p

zeelee()-I've got lots of sympathy for Bobby, mostly because I just destroyed the poor boy.  I do like Remy better, obviously. I was gonna break Bobby and Rogue up before she disappeared, but I figured that was cheating and taking the easy way out.

Girl number 1-Yeah, I get wrapped up in the Rogue/ Remy stuff and leave out some of the other characters. Should work on that.  Technically, Kurt isn't in the story, because I started this story before the second movie came out, (yes, its taking me a long time to finish :) ) That's why Jean's still around. Was going to try and work him and Storm in more, but just ran out of time .

A.M.bookworm247 -Thank you so much. That means a lot.

Jukebox-Yes, Rogue and Remy should always be together.  Now if I could only convince Marvel and Fox of that.

Tayrion -Yeah, I always thought Sinister could be a much more interesting villain. Like a mix of Mengela, Dr. Frankenstein, and Hannibal Letcher.  Glad you liked my 'version' in his brief appearance.

RoguesHeart -Thanks for reading and your comments.  I hope you liked the ending.

millie()- I'm really sorry I kept you waiting for so long. I do like writing, but like I said before I just didn't have the time. The reading chapters over again will probably help you remember what happened in story, six freaking months ago, so the ending will make sense. The Jabberooky, or  Jabberwocky (honestly I don't remember how it's spelled) is another Alice in Wonderland/ Through the Looking Glass reference.  They've been a recurring theme through the story. The Jabberwooky is basically a monster, and there's a little poem about Beware the Jabberwooky/ With claws that catch, etc....  It's just referring to Sinister as the monster to watch out for.  And I did like Remy/Rogue angst, it's tradition, but in small doses. The comic go way overboard.

Fleecy - I think Bobby's been avoiding Remy for the most part. Ran out of time for much Bobby interaction.  But even in my sort of planned longer version of the story Bobby didn't do much more than that.  It's not like he can make Rogue feelings return and if he said the wrong thing to Remy, he'd end up in Hudson Bay with Logan. ;)  
  
Jeanne Marie-I know, those never updated stories bug me too. ;p. In my own defense, when I started writing I was pretty good with updating, usually twice a month, then it went to once a month and after December, it apparently went to once every six months.  My life just got to crazy too do anything. And fanfiction is the one thing I wasn't getting paid for. That's why I figured I'd end it now rather than drag the poor thing out for another year, or so. I don't think I've read Ramos's X-Cursions, but Prodigals is brilliant. Thanks for putting me in such good company, hope you still think that after reading the end. ;)

FireBringer - Thanks.

Alwaysright1- Ok, I got the message, thanks for the wake up call.  Thanks for following my story.  I hadn't exactly given up on the story, just had no time to do anything about it.  My sort- of- planned -out- ending was a little longer than this, but at the rate I was going, it wouldn't have been done until the next X-Men movie came out.  Hope you don't feel gyped by the somewhat abbreviated version, but the poor story needed closure. :)


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